Have Faith in Me
by scratchtheplans
Summary: Sequel to "Your Tears Are Empty". The knights thought their days of war were over, but the most perilous had yet to come. This last mission will have them racing against time itself, fighting enemies that outnumber them by the thousands. Aderyn always knew there was a chance that she could lose Tristan, but now that possibility has become far too real.
1. I Won't Give Up

**Well, hello there! If you've been reading my updates on my profile, I bet you weren't expecting to hear from me too soon. Turns out I was too excited about starting the sequel to hold off until I finished chapter five. Oops. So this is coming your way as I start chapter four due to my complete and utter lack of self-control. :D**

**For those of you who just stumbled upon this in the KA category, you should know this is a sequel to "Your Tears Are Empty", a fic I wrote about a year ago, and some of this might not make sense to you unless you read that one first. I'm trying my best to explain things so that you don't have to, but it might be best if you just saved yourself the confusion and read the prequel first.**

**So the song I posted before this is the entire inspiration for this fic. It was the bg music in the trailer I posted on my tumblr, and it's (obviously) the name of the fic as well. It's one of my favorites of all time. So yeah, shameless plugging for A Day to Remember, lol.**

**I won't keep you any longer then, ONTO THE LONG-AWAITED SEQUEL!**

_"When I look into your eyes, it's like watching the night sky or a beautiful sunrise. There's so much they hold. And just like them old stars, I see that you've come so far to be right where you are. How old is your soul? Well, I won't give up on us even if the skies get rough. I'm giving you all my love. I'm still looking up. And when you're needing your space to do some navigating, I'll be here patiently waiting to see what you find. 'Cause even the stars, they burn. Some even fall to the earth. We've got a lot to learn. God knows we're worth it. No, I won't give up."-Jason Mraz_

*+*Aderyn*+*

Orange light burned through my closed eyelids, bringing me to wakefulness. I kept them closed, stretching my legs and wiggling my toes. The heat of the sunlight coming into my bedroom from the window warmed my skin, and an overwhelming sense of contentment filled me. This had the makings for a perfect morning, but I couldn't escape the feeling that something was missing…

My right arm reached over, seeking the other side of the bed. When all my hand met was cold sheets, I finally opened my eyes. Finally the emptiness made sense. I was alone.

I frowned for a moment, wondering where Tristan was, until I remembered that he had patrol duty with Bors this morning. I never liked waking up without him. There was something particularly soothing about waking up with someone you love beside you. I've been experiencing it every morning for nearly three months, so I've become a bit spoiled.

It was hard to believe that I'd already spent several months at Hadrian's Wall. Sometimes it all felt too good to be true, and I would expect to wake up from this wonderful dream. So far it proved to be all reality, and it was hard to explain just how happy that made me. I often wondered how I'd ever lived a life without Tristan, Naveen, Elaine, and all of the other people I've become close with since leaving my seclusion in the forest. My past with my family and Drenna sometimes seems like a story someone told me rather than experiences of my own. Although I would love to still have them all with me, I've finally come to accept their deaths. With my acceptance came a freedom that I would never have imagined existed. I was beatific all the time now, something I never thought I could be before I left my house in the forest.

I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through my tangled hair. As I picked up my discarded shift from the floor, I thought of the activities that lead to it ending up on the floor last night and felt my cheeks begin to burn. Tristan and I began an intimate relationship a month ago at the celebration for my first two months at the Wall, but the novelty of it had yet to wear off. We've spent every night since that one molded together beneath our sheets like we would die if we were separated. The act itself was incredible, but whenever I found myself thinking about it, I always reacted like a young girl, giggling and blushing. Naveen took every opportunity to evoke this reaction from me, and then teased me relentlessly about it.

I tugged the shift over my head, and went to the wash basin to clean myself up. I cursed when I stubbed my toe on Tristan's armor stand. A week ago I'd relocated all of my belongings to his room, and I wasn't used to the arrangement yet. The occasional pain of a stubbed toe and bruised elbow were perfectly bearable when the payment was having Tristan with me every night.

After I scrubbed my skin, I pulled my hair to the side and plaited it to keep it out of my way, and then checked my reflection in the water. My face, albeit plain, was filled with distinctive features: large blue eyes, pale skin sprinkled with freckles across my cheeks and nose, plump lips, and a scar that ran from the outside corner of my eye to the corner of my mouth in the shape of a crescent moon. The mark had faded a lot since it was given to me by a Saxon three months ago. Instead of the raised, angry pink flesh, it was just a silvery line. It still jumped out as the most noticeable aspect on my face, but it was nowhere near as horrendous as it used to be.

I decided I was satisfied with my hair, and pulled on a dark green dress with laces from the wrists to the elbows. I tied the sleeves up, and then pulled on my boots. My sword was next, buckled at my hip. I didn't have to work at the stables today, so I was free until my shift at the tavern later that night. I probably should have relished a day where I didn't have to work both of my jobs, but I always became bored when I had nothing to do. To me, it was unnecessary to have days off when I actually wanted to work, but Jols, Vanora, and Tristan all agreed that I should not try and overwork myself. What they didn't know was that the tasks they gave me were much simpler compared to the work I used to have to do every day when I lived alone. Whenever I tried to explain that to them, they would hear nothing of it, so I gave up and complied with their request.

Once I was decent, I left my room to go get some breakfast at the tavern. After that I figured I'd go see Egryn and maybe ride out to the forest and pick some fruit from the only apple tree nearby. I knew Egryn would appreciate the attention. Ever since we moved to the Wall, I had a feeling he might think I was neglecting him. We used to spend nearly every waking minute together, but here that was impossible because the streets were too small for him to follow me everywhere. I missed him. He may be a horse, but he was my best and only friend for over a decade. I understood him better than I understood most people around here.

I stepped out of the shadow of the Keep and into the courtyard. For a moment I just stood still with my face pointed towards the sky, relishing in the sunlight. Sun was unusual amongst the heavy clouds that normally hung over Briton like a plague. It would most likely be our last warm day until spring, and I planned to soak in as much of it as possible before the sun disappeared again.

I began walking towards the tavern with a bit of a skip in my step. I was finally able to get around without needing a guide. The layout was pretty clear in my mind now, although there were some hazy spots. My basic knowledge of the heart of the fort was all I really needed, considering that was where I remained most of the time. The only time I ventured further was when I was riding Egryn out to the forest or Vanora sent me on an errand for her.

Some of the people I passed still gave me dirty looks. They thought I didn't belong here, but I stopped allowing them to bother me. The truth was that I belonged wherever Tristan was, and if he was here, than I should be here too. The things people said to me could sometimes make me feel a little down, but I just had to remember that I had plenty of people who cared about me now and the people who didn't weren't worth my time, a lesson that was ingrained forcefully into my mind by Vanora.

I finally arrived at the tavern, and strode right up to the bar at the back. Naveen was alone there, scrubbing out a large pot with the sleeves of her dress pushed up to her elbows. She was my closest friend, and possibly the most beautiful woman in the entire fort. With little to no effort, she managed to look like a goddess, even when she was cursing at men in the tavern or washing the floors. She never let it go to her head either, and managed to be a very down-to-earth person with a witty sense of humor. I was glad she'd decided to take me under her wing.

Naveen glanced up when I sat down at a stool, and wiped her forehead on her forearm. "Morning, Addi," she greeted.

"Morning," I responded.

"I made you a plate," she informed me. "It's that one right there."

She pointed to a plate filled with a chunk of bread, a sliced apple, and a piece of some sort of baked pastry with what looked like cherries in the center. I slid the dish toward me, and asked, "What is this, with the cherries?"

"Oh, it's just something Elaine bakes from time to time," she replied, shoulder deep in the pot she was cleaning. "Try it! It is really good."

I took a small bite, and was shocked at what I tasted. "I didn't know Elaine could cook so well!" I exclaimed, taking another huge bite. It was delicious, sweet and warm. It was like nothing I'd ever eaten.

"Thank you," mumbled a voice behind me.

I turned around, and saw Elaine behind me, smiling softly. Naveen introduced Elaine and I after I started working at the tavern. They were roommates in a flat on the side of the fort where the domestic dwellings were. Elaine was an unassuming girl despite her many talents, and was extremely shy and soft spoken. Her one major flaw was her undying love for Lancelot, a man with whom she'd never actually had a full conversation with. She could not be persuaded away from him no matter the argument, which led to a never-ending heartache for her that was hard to watch.

"Elaine, this is fantastic," I told her, finishing off the pastry. "You should open a bakery."

She blushed, and smiled at me as she walked around to the opposite side of the bar. "Oh no," she replied. "I could never. My employees would never listen to me."

"Of course they would," Naveen said as she set the pot on a rack to dry. "If not, Addi and I would use physical persuasion." She smacked her fist into her opposite hand to demonstrate her point.

"You would not," Elaine said, pointing sternly at her friend. "That would not be very nice."

"Neither is disobeying your boss."

"You do it all the time," I pointed out.

Naveen appeared to think about it, and then said, "But there isn't anyone around who will beat me into submission. See? No repercussions and _BAM_," she slammed her fist onto the counter for emphasis, "anarchy!"

"I have to admit, I don't understand half of what you say, Naveen," I admitted with a shake of my head.

"That's alright. No one does," she replied with a wink, grabbing a pitcher to go and refill the few customers' cups.

Elaine sighed once she was gone. "I worry about her, I really do."

"Worry about who?" Galahad asked, plopping down into the seat next to me, and grabbing an apple slice from my plate. He flashed me a boyish smile and crammed it into his mouth when I tried to take it back.

"You," I responded agitatedly, "because you're a thief, and thieves get punished."

He swallowed the fruit before asking, "What are you going to do, sick Tristan on me?"

"No," I snapped. "I can take you myself."

Galahad laughed, long and boisterously as I glared at him with my arms folded over my chest. I waited until his amusement died down, and then asked, "What, may I ask, is so funny about that?"

"You are so small I can see clear over your head when you stand in front of me, yet you think you could defeat me in a duel? Unlikely."

"We shall see about that," I said, "because I'll be seeing you on the training grounds after I finish eating. We can settle this today."

For a moment he looked surprised, and then a devilish smile curled up the corners of his mouth. "Alright. And what do I get if I win?"

"The right to say that you have never been beaten by a woman," I responded.

"Untrue," said Gawain, popping up out of nowhere and sitting on the other side of Galahad. "Vanora's given him a beating or two over the years."

I laughed as Galahad fixed Gawain with a sour look. "You act like she never hit you with that damn spoon."

"I never said that," Gawain replied, grabbing a chunk of bread from a plate behind the bar. "I am man enough to admit that Vanora scares the daylights out of me."

I swallowed my last bite of food, and pushed my empty plate away from me as I stood up. "Ready to embarrass yourself, Galahad?" I asked.

"I won't be the embarrassed one when we're done," he quipped, standing with me. "Coming, Gawain?"

"Miss a chance to see you get your ass handed to you by a small woman? Never," the blonde knight answered, standing to follow us.

As we walked out of the bar, Naveen glanced up and noticed Gawain. She was so intent on watching him that she didn't even notice the mug she was filling was overflowing, and the man it belonged to was frantically trying to mop up the excess. Naveen was about as infatuated with Gawain as Elaine was with Lancelot. I just so happened to know that Gawain liked her just as much, he just hadn't realized it yet. He would eventually, of that I was sure.

The training grounds were situated on the outskirts of the fort; a fenced-in rectangular area often crowded with men testing their strengths. It was only a short walk from the tavern, so we arrived there within a few minutes. There were targets set up for archery, dummies for practicing dagger-tossing, and plenty of room to spar. The grass had thinned in circular patches, having been trodden under foot so many times that it simply gave up on growing. Those brown spots were where the sword sparring took place. The remaining healthy grass surrounding those areas acted as a barrier to keep fights from running into each other. If you stepped out of your tract, you were admitting defeat. It was all quite orderly, which was ironic to me. Battle was anything but trim and tidy, so it struck me as odd that training should be so.

As we neared the last unoccupied circle to begin our fight, Gawain cupped his hands around his mouth, and called out, "Arthur! Lancelot!"

I followed his line of sight, and found the half-Briton, half-Roman commander of the Sarmatian knights and his second-in-command sparring a little ways away. They stopped when they heard their names called, and sheathed their weapons to come and meet us.

"Gawain, Galahad, Aderyn," Arthur said in greeting, smiling slightly. His brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat from his training with Lancelot, and he was dressed less formally than I was used to, in dark brown leather breeches and a washed out red tunic. Although he seemed to be content, Arthur always had this air about him that suggested he was brooding deeply over something. I always assumed it was his homesickness. He yearned for Rome, gods know why. Tristan told me he would go there once their service time was up in a week. Perhaps he would be able to truly be happy once he was there.

"Arthur," Gawain, Galahad, and I chorused.

"Morning," Lancelot said, smiling at Gawain and Galahad. Once his eyes landed on me, something in his eyes hardened, though his smile remained. I did not return the gesture.

Lancelot and I had a complicated acquaintance. The first time we met, he killed Drenna, the Woad woman who raised me from the time I was ten winters old, after my parents and siblings were murdered in a brutal attack by some nomadic barbarians. A Woad attacked Tristan against her orders, and when she went to cut the man down, Lancelot shot her thinking she was going after Tristan. I understand that Lancelot thought he was saving his friend, but I still can't find it in me to forgive him even though he's apologized to me. We both tend to tiptoe around each other instead of making any moves to resolve our silent feud.

"What are you three doing up here so early?" Arthur asked.

"Galahad has developed too big of an ego," I informed the commander with a grin. "I plan to knock him down a few pegs."

Arthur chuckled, and held his arm out towards the empty sparring patch. "By all means, please do," he said.

I stepped past the men, and took my place on the other side of the brown piece of earth. I unbuckled my sheath from my waist and withdrew my sword from it before tossing it to the side. I twirled it expertly in my hand as Galahad shed himself of his own scabbard, adding his cloak and bow to the pile as well. He stood across from me, and smiled lazily.

"Do you really expect to beat me in that thing?" he asked, nodding at my dress.

I began to circle Galahad casually, acting as if I were already bored with this. "A lady can do anything in a dress just as well as she could naked."

He lashed out with his short sword, and our blades met in the middle with the ring of steel on steel. He smirked at me over our poised weapons, and said, "But I would much prefer you naked." A chorus of laughter sounded from the small ring of spectators we'd already gained.

"Trust me, Sir Galahad," I replied playfully, "the sight would be too much for a mere _boy_ like you to handle."

Another round of laughter and an appreciative whoop from Gawain followed my jest. Galahad frowned, and pushed away from me. We began to circle again, and I couldn't hide my exhilarated smile. I hadn't been truly challenged sparring in a long time. Drenna and I became so used to each other's movements and tricks that our fights were dull long before she died. Tristan and I sparred every once in awhile, but I always had a nagging feeling that he let me win whenever I triumphed, though he denied it. This time I knew for certain that that my opponent wouldn't hand me a win, and I didn't know enough about Galahad's fighting style to trick a victory from him. No, this fight would all go to whoever had more skill, a true sparring match. Adrenaline pulsed in my veins, and I laughed as Galahad came at me again.

I parried the blow easily, and then danced out of Galahad's reach. Just as he aimed for my shoulder, I ducked and jabbed for his knees. He sidestepped just in time, swinging his sword down at me in synchronization with the movement. I flattened myself to the ground to avoid the blow, and then rolled to dodge a third one. His sword smacked harmlessly into the ground where my chest had been a moment ago, and I sprang to my feet in a defensive position, grinning at the frustrated expression on the young knight's face.

The crowd around us had grown to twice its original size. Ours was the only fight going on now, as all of the other men had stopped their duels to watch Galahad and I. It was a rare thing to see a knight and a Briton participating in a fight that wouldn't end in death.

This time I made the first move, stabbing towards Galahad's right arm. He lurched to the side, and swung forcefully towards my neck. I bent sideways just before the blade could make contact.

"Easy, Galahad!" I heard Arthur shout.

"You're not actually trying to kill her!" Gawain reminded him.

Neither of us paid them any mind as we began a complex series of maneuvers in which we both came so close to hitting the other that Galahad ripped a hole in the skirt of my dress and I snipped off one of his curls. Sweat finally broke out on my brow as I stepped back again, attempting to gain my bearings. Galahad adopted a defensive position, his knees bent, preparing for my next attack. I eyed his stance speculatively, looking for any flaws in his stance, but there were none. The knights were trained well and had far too much natural talent to have noticeable inadequacies in their fighting styles. I did notice how he lead with his left side, and decided what to do on a whim.

I feinted towards the left, but quickly reversed towards the right when he made to block. Unfortunately he noticed what I was doing at the last second, and swerved out of my way so that only the tip of my blade grazed his ribcage. He laughed at my frustrated expression, and then leapt forward when I wasn't expecting it. Our blades clashed in between us with a grating sound that made me wince, and he pushed his weight against me, using it to his advantage. I strained against him, but it was a losing battle. Galahad was a lot stronger than me, but I was much more agile. I just needed a way out of this hold.

My eyes skimmed over him frantically, attempting to find any means to beat him, but my thoughts jumbled up in my desperation. I took a deep breath, and blocked out the sounds of the cheering men, Galahad's triumphant smile, and the pain in my overtaxed muscles. I focused on what Drenna taught me: stay calm, and think rationally.

My eyes trailed down to Galahad's legs, and I noticed how all of his weight was on his left one. I looked up at him, and smiled serenely, knowing exactly what to do now.

Galahad was leaning over me, forcing me into a backbend with his weight. I slid my left foot back to stabilize myself, and then hooked my right foot behind his knee. I saw the surprise flit across his face a split second before I wrenched his leg forward. He fell face first, and I managed to leap forward just before he pulled me down with him.

He scrambled to his knees, but it was too late. My sword was pointed between his eyes, and I smiled down at him in victory. Cheers broke out from the spectators, but Galahad scowled at me.

"You cheated!" he accused.

Gawain came over and clapped a hand on my shoulder. "She beat you fair and square, Galahad. Don't be a spoilsport! Take it like a man!"

I lowered my sword, and Galahad stood. For a second his face was torn, but then he smiled (albeit, a bit reluctantly) and held out a hand to me. "You are certainly a lot better than I thought you would be," he admitted.

"I shall take that as a compliment," I responded with a laugh.

Arthur came up behind Galahad, and handed him the items he discarded before we fought. The commander offered me a congratulatory smile. "You are very talented with a sword, Aderyn," he complimented. "I would not want to be your enemy, that is for sure."

"Thank you, Arthur," I said, unsuccessfully fighting the blush creeping up my neck.

Lancelot came over then and handed me my sheath. "You fought well," he murmured with a small smirk.

I managed to nod with an uncomfortable half-smile. I returned my sword to the scabbard, and buckled it at my waist as Arthur and Lancelot took their leave to go for some ale at the tavern. I was assessing the hole in my skirt when a shadow blocked my vision. I glanced up at, and a smile broke across my face.

"Tristan!" I said happily, beaming at him. "What are you doing here?"

The corners of his lips curved up the tiniest bit. "I went to the tavern to find you, and Naveen told me you were here." He paused to move a lock of my hair that loosened during the fight out of my eyes. "I would have killed Galahad for challenging you if I didn't think he was humiliated enough from losing."

I crossed my arms indignantly. "What, did you think he actually had a chance of winning?"

He shook his head in reply, and I smiled again. I checked to make sure no one was watching us, and then put my hands on his shoulders, boosted myself onto the tips of my toes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. Once I was flat on my feet again, I rested my hands against his chest, and looked up into his golden eyes.

"I hate when you have patrol," I admitted. "The bed's always so cold."

He leaned down, and his lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "We could go change that now."

I flushed to the very roots of my hair and giggled compulsively. "But it's the middle of the day," I pointed out.

"So?"

I glanced around the field again, watching Galahad and Gawain at the archery practicing range and the other men in the sparring arenas. None of them were paying us any mind, so I grabbed Tristan's hand and began to lead him back to the main area of the fort.

/\/\/\/\/\

An hour later, Tristan and I were in our bed, a thin sheen of sweat covering our naked bodies. We lay on our sides, facing each other. My head rested on his bicep, and his other arm was thrown lazily over my waist. Both of my hands were on his chest, one of my fingers lazily tracing his collar bone. Our legs were tangled together beneath the sheets, and I felt vulnerable and utterly safe at the same time.

I could feel his potent gaze on my face, but I continued to watch my finger trail across his skin instead. Part of me wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I knew Tristan always told me what was bothering him when he was ready. I didn't want to ruin such a perfect moment by pushing him too much. He was a lot like his hawk. You had to let her come to you, or she would fly away before you had a chance to stop her.

I leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to the left side of his chest, just over his heart. As I leaned back, I finally caught his eye, and we silently stared at each other for a moment before Tristan finally relented.

"I have only days left," he reminded me.

"Yes. And then you are free."

He moved his arm from my waist, and brushed his hand through my hair. "I don't plan to return to Sarmatia."

"You don't?" I asked taken completely off guard by that admission.

"I have no desire to stay there," he answered simply. "Any family that I had was wiped out years ago. Half of my tribe was decimated by Romans a year after I was taken."

"I am so sorry, Tristan," I murmured.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he said stiffly. "I barely remember them anyway."

"So what do you plan to do?" I asked, feigning casualness while my heart beat rapidly in my chest for fear of his answer.

"What will _we_ do," he corrected gruffly. "You will come with me."

My heart stuttered, and then began to beat so strong I feared it might explode out of my chest. He wanted me to come with him. Just me and him and all that this world had to offer.

I smiled at Tristan teasingly, unable to remain serious in my joyful mood. "Will I?" I asked. "I do not recall agreeing to such a commitment."

His eyes gleamed with an indescribable emotion as he replied, "I could take you to the sea. I know how much you want to see it. Will that convince you to agree to come?"

I shook my head slightly. "You don't need to convince me, Tristan," I said softly, averting my eyes. "I think I would follow you anywhere."

He kissed my forehead, and then my lips, softer than the brush of a feather.

"We could stay in Briton," he told me, voice so low I almost didn't catch his words. "This is your home, and I know these lands better than any other. We belong here."

I nodded, and wrapped my left arm around his waist to pull myself as close to him as I could get. I kissed his chin, and then nuzzled my face into his neck, breathing in his woodsy scent.

"I want us to stay like this," I said with my lips against his skin. "Even when we are old and wrinkled."

"We'll have to get up to get food eventually," he replied with the hint of amusement in his voice.

I pinched his side lightly. "You know know I mean," I said exasperatedly. "Not the _physical_ way we are, but how we are with each other. If we were to ever part ways, I would want to always think about us like this."

"That will never happen," he said, his voice surprising me with its harshness. His arms tightened on me like he thought I might run off right then if he gave me enough leeway.

"I hope not," I said quietly.

I attempted to envision a future in which Tristan and I were no longer with each other. It was hard to picture, feeling only love for him in my heart. It could never be me to part us, that I knew for sure. So I delved into the image of a future in which Tristan no longer loved me and left me alone. The very idea was so painful that I pulled myself back to the present and snuggled into Tristan to chase away the vision.

There was only one thing that would happen to me if Tristan and I parted ways: a shattered heart.

**So there you have it! Chapter one, yayyyyy! I hope to see some of my old reviewers return to me (hint, hint: Brandi and Kadie). As for my new lovelies, I hope you enjoyed.**

**So I'm thinking of having a system this time: a new chapter every Thursday unless I don't get any reviews (or there's special circumstances in which I can't update on Thursday, in which case I'll update Wednesday). Hope that's okay for everyone.**

**Oh, and for those of you who don't know, I made a Twitter for my ff account so that I can keep you guys even more up to date on what I'm doing. I also occasionally post previews there. ;) The URL is formyfiction, the same as my tumblr. Follow?  
**

**So yeah, I'll see you all next Thursday then! :)**


	2. Over and Over

**Hello my little darlings. How are thee...thou? I don't know, whichever one is grammatically correct (if one of them actually is). Anyway, welcome to chapter two. For those of you who don't follow my twitter, I announced last night that I've finished up to chapter thirteen, and the story is actually almost done. This is going to be quite a bit shorter than its predecessor. Since I'm following the movie timeline, it's all moving pretty fast. But oh well, it just gives me more time to reread and edit.**

**So without further ado...chapter two! (RHYME ALERT)  
**

_"I feel it every day. It's all the same. It brings me down, but I'm the one to blame. I've tried everything to get away. So here I go again, chasing you down again. Why do I do this over and over? Over and over I fall for you. Over and over. Over and over I try not to. It feels like every day stays the same. It's dragging me down, and I can't pull away. Over and over, you make me fall for you. Over and over. Over and over you don't even try. So many thoughts that I can't get out of my head. I try to live without you. Every time I do, I feel dead. I know what's best for me, but I want you instead. I'll keep on wasting all my time."-Three Days Grace_

*+*Elaine*+*

The tavern was slow today, as it usually was in the morning. There weren't enough customers to require two servers, so I was in the back cooking the food while Naveen was up front. I knew she would rather be in the back, but she would never leave me to tend the front by myself. Some men around here weren't very good listeners, especially when the word coming of the speaker's mouth was "no". Naveen was much more forceful than me, and she knew I would never use physical force if the need arose. So in order to protect me from the slimeballs who visited the tavern, she made me stay in the back.

That's always how it's been with Naveen and I, ever since we were young. We've been friends for many years. She was the only person who stayed my friend after my parents died in a fire. I really closed myself off from everyone and starting feeling very anxious about interacting with people after I became an orphan. Naveen was the only one who stuck by me, holding both ends of the conversation when I refused to talk and throwing rocks at the kids who made fun of me. Her parents actually took me in even though they already had five rowdy children themselves.

It wasn't until about two years ago that I got this job at the tavern and moved out on my own. Three months later, Naveen couldn't stand living in the small house with her big family anymore, and asked to join me in exchange for paying half the rent. Of course I agreed, and so our friendship carried on into our adult lives.

A loud bang jerked me out of my thoughts, and I reeled around to face the back door to the tavern. Vanora was there, holding her youngest child in one arm and gripping her eldest son's wrist firmly in the other. The boy looked terrified, and Vanora looked enraged.

"Where is Bors?" she snarled through gritted teeth.

"He was here a few minutes ago," I answered immediately. "I think he was headed up to the training grounds."

"I will _kill_ that man," she hissed. "He leaves me alone with all eleven of our children when he explicitly promised to come home straight after patrol! And this one," she paused to shake the arm of the older boy, "thought it would be funny to cut his sister's hair off! She looks like a right little boy now! I can't watch them all at once you know! It wouldn't have happened if Bors would just do as he says he will! That lying, stinking, overgrown child of a man! I swear I will…"

Her voice trailed off into a long monologue of threats and insults directed at her lover, and I knew my attention was no longer needed. I dumped a bag of potatoes onto the counter, and began to chop them up. If I was being honest, I could understand why Bors always did his best to avoid going home. If I had eleven children, I think I might want to get away sometimes too. Especially if every single one of those children were just as foulmouthed and mischievous as their father. But I would never tell Nora that. She might just flip her lid if someone said anything of the sort. If she insulted her family, it was perfectly reasonable, but if anyone else did, she broke out that wretched wooden spoon of hers...

"Do you think you'll be able to finish your shift without me, Elaine?" Vanora asked after she was done her rant. "I have to stay home and make sure the little ones don't set the house ablaze."

"Of course," I responded. "It's slow anyway."

"Thank you, dear," she replied, getting a better grip on her son when he tried to squirm away. "I'll do my best to come by later and check on things."

"Alright. Good luck."

"I'll need it," she grumbled as she left the way she came in.

"Was that Nora?" Naveen asked as she circled around the bar to drop off some empty tankards.

"Yes," I replied. "She can't come in tonight. Bors left her with the children again."

Naveen snorted. "If I was with a man who skipped out on me as often as Bors does to Nora, I would skin him alive."

"Of that I have no doubt."

"Ale!"

The voice was so loud and came so sudden that I jumped and slopped some stew down my front. When my eyes landed on the man who'd spoken as he leaned against the bar, I nearly had a stroke.

Lancelot himself was only feet away from me, so casual, like he wasn't making my heart explode out of my chest. Just looking at him made my face heat up to the point that I knew I resembled a poppy. His hair was shining as if he'd recently had a bath, and the tunic he was wearing hugged the muscular curves of his biceps. He had that beautiful flirtatious grin on, one of my favorites.

But my heart dropped when I realized he wasn't directing that look at me.

He was staring at Naveen.

"Fly to the hottest circle of hell, Lancelot," Naveen snapped, beginning to refill pitchers from the barrels under the counter.

"Come now, Naveen, do you want Vanora to know you turned down a paying customer?" Lancelot laughed, sliding a coin towards her.

"She'll understand. She doesn't like you much either."

"I'm afraid I have to disagree with that," he said, leaning across the bar to wrap his finger around a lock of her hair.

I whipped around before I could see him complete the action, but I heard the sharp smack of Naveen swatting his hand away and beginning to call him every foul name she could think of. I continued to stir my pot, pretending like him not noticing me wasn't hurting so much it made me feel nauseous. My hands were shaking slightly, and then the pot began to blur in front of me as tears filled my eyes. I didn't even know why I was crying. I knew Lancelot would never see me like that. To him I was just another faceless tavern girl. And I'm sure that any man who had to choose between Naveen and I would choose her. She was always beautiful no matter how she looked, and I was always plain. It made sense. So then why did it sting so badly?

There was a bang and then Naveen hissed, "Here! Take your damn ale and get out of my bloody sight!"

"See, that wasn't so hard, love," Lancelot chuckled.

"Don't call me 'love', you pig. Go away!"

Lancelot's boisterous laughter sounded farther away, so I chanced a glance behind me. Sure enough, he was swaggering towards a table where Dagonet sat absentmindedly twirling a dagger in his hand. With the pretense of wiping sweat off my forehead, I brought my apron up towards my face to quickly wipe away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks. Naveen circled around to face me with a pitying expression.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" I asked, realizing how far I'd overdone my false cheer a second too late.

"You know."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," I said quickly. "It's just…these blasted onions."

Naveen glanced down at the counter, and then sighed, "Lainey, those are potatoes."

"Dammit," I muttered, mentally cursing myself to Rome and back.

"You shouldn't let him affect you so," she told me. "He's nothing but an immature little swine who wouldn't know a good woman even if she was sucking his cock."

"_NAVEEN!" _I gasped, clutching at my chest with surprise. "Language!"

My old friend just laughed, tossing her hair over shoulder. "Well, it's true! You know I don't lie, especially not to you."

"Yes, well, I would enjoy a little bit of dilution every once in awhile," I grumbled, beginning to chop potatoes again. "And some discretion at home too, if you please."

"It was your own fault for coming home too early."

"How should I know that if I came home early from work, you'd be strutting around the flat naked as the day you were born?" I questioned exasperatedly.

"'Naked as the day you were born'?" Aderyn asked, appearing at the bar with Tristan beside her. "Now that does sound like a story I'm not sorry I missed."

For once, Naveen and I both blushed furiously, though hers was all due to the presence of the intimidating scout who was regarding us boredly, while mine was due to both that and the fact that we'd been talking loud enough for people to hear us.

"I'll fill you in one day," Naveen mumbled, attempting to fight through her embarrassment. "Where have you been anyway?"

Aderyn sat herself down on a stool, and Tristan murmured something for only her to hear. She nodded, and he put his hand on her arm, letting the touch linger before striding away to Lancelot and Dagonet. That was about as far as the couple's public displays of affection ever really went, apart from a rare spur of the moment embrace or a kiss shared in the shadows of a back table at the tavern at night. I actually thought it was romantic how private they were, like they wanted every part of their relationship to be just between them; intimate and exclusive.

"I went to the sparring fields," Aderyn answered finally. "Kicked Galahad's ass in a sparring match."

"Did you really?" I inquired with surprise.

"Yes," she responded, seemingly confused as to mine and Naveen's raised eyebrows.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that you're a good fighter, Addi, it's just…," Naveen and I exchanged a glance as she continued, "the knights are _really_ good. As in ruddy fantastic. To beat one of them, even Galahad, that's just-"

"Extremely unusual," I finished when Naveen began to flounder for a good word.

Aderyn blushed, picking at a scratch in the wooden counter as she told us, "Even Arthur complimented me on my skill."

"Wow," Naveen said appreciatively.

Aderyn was smiling sheepishly when a Roman soldier suddenly appeared next to her. A new caravan had come in today, and stopped on their way to the coast so they could return to their homeland. A group of them, including this man, had been eating their midday meal here. This man was not particularly memorable. A bit plump around the middle with the usual tan Roman skin tone and dark hair. His brown eyes were particularly beady however, and he had an air about him that suggested he rarely spent a moment not looking for trouble.

"Hello. My name is Porcius," he said to Aderyn, in what he must have assumed was a seductive way. "And what might yours be?"

Aderyn, in her ignorance of city ways, didn't quite understand that he was attempting to flirt with her. She regarded him confusedly and replied in a questioning tone, "Aderyn."

"Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl," Porcius purred, leaning much too close into her personal space. "How did a tiny little thing like you come across a scar like that?"

She self-consciously reached up to touch the scar on her cheek as she said, "I got it from a Saxon."

"I would gladly slaughter the bastard if you'd honor me by joining my friends and I for a drink."

Naveen had obviously seen enough at this point because it was at that moment she snapped, "She's not interested."

Porcius looked at the two of us as if noticing for the first time that other people were around, and then narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I was talking to you, milady."

"Well, I don't think I really gave a rat's royal ass who you were talking to," she snapped back. "Go back to your table."

It was then that I noticed Gawain walking towards the knights' table out of the corner of my eye. He gave us a curious look as he sat down and greeted Tristan, Dagonet, and Lancelot, all three of whom had yet to notice the altercation occurring.

"Don't tell me what to do, you bloody wench!" Porcius growled.

To my immense disbelief, Aderyn backhanded the Roman so hard that his whole head whipped to the side. "Peidiwch â meiddio chi siarad â hi fel eich bod yn fab i ast!" she snarled at him. I wondered if she even noticed she'd switched languages.

The man turned his eyes back onto her, and this time they were shining with an evil glint that looked menacing even next to the bright red handprint on his cheek. He drew back his fist and rammed it into Aderyn's face, knocking her to the ground.

I let out a bloodcurdling scream, and Naveen attempted to leap over the bar to get to the man, letting loose a string of curses some of which I'd never even heard the like of.

Gawain was standing in an instant, speaking quickly to the other three knights, who turned to see what he was looking at.

This was not going to end well.

*+*Aderyn*+*

Porcius was sneering evilly down at me, looking as if he might strike me again. Although I was feeling a bit dizzy from his initial attack, I crouched on the balls of my feet and braced myself to spring at him. My attempt was cut short, however, when Tristan appeared out of nowhere, lunging at the Roman. First he drove his fist into the other man's fat gut, making him double over in pain and begin to heave. Next he kneed him in the face, making a spurt of scarlet blood fly from his mouth. Lastly, he grabbed his arm, and twisted while thrusting it upwards. There was a resounding pop that indicated he'd wrenched it out of place, and Porcius let out a gurgling cry of pain. At the sound, his fellow soldiers noticed his situation and all rushed towards him, only to be stopped when Lancelot, Dagonet, and Gawain stepped in their path with their weapons out. They immediately backed down, leering at the other men.

All of this occurred within the space of a few seconds. The tavern had gone completely silent. Tristan released Porcius's arm only to grab him by his throat, using his other hand to hold a dagger to the wounded man's ribs while nearly squeezing all the breath out of him.

"You struck my woman," Tristan growled at him.

"Didn't see your name on her," he managed to choke out before Tristan squeezed tighter. Porcius's face began to turn purple.

"Tristan, don't!" I said from where I sat on the ground. The repercussions from Rome's military would be severe, most likely death.

He barely spared me a glance before looking back at the Roman. "Apologize," he snapped.

"Not…to…a whore," he gasped, pushing at the hand that was restricting his airway.

Tristan slammed him headfirst onto the counter, and I heard Elaine scream again. I used a stool to pull myself to my feet, and Naveen immediately ran around the bar to help steady me. Tristan had his forearm pushing into Porcius's thick neck, still restraining him.

Now even the other knights were noting the severity of the situation, what with the combined measures of Tristan's unpredictable temper and the Roman's stubbornness.

"Tristan," Gawain said in a warning tone, while Dagonet shot anxious glances between the scout and the other Romans they were keeping at bay.

"Five seconds," Tristan said in a dangerously low voice. "If you haven't apologized, I'll gut you like a fish. One…"

"Tristan, stop this!" I said, grabbing his arm.

"Two…"

"This might not be the best idea," Lancelot said with urgency seeping into his tone.

"Three…"

"Gods, help us," Naveen gasped, covering her eyes.

"Four…"

"Tristan, no!" I shrieked, pulling at him desperately to no avail.

"Five."

Tristan began to dig the blade into the left side of the man's stomach, drawing blood, and I let go of him in absolute shock.

"I'M SORRY!" Porcius squealed, wriggling desperately in his stronger captor's arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Now let me go!"

Tristan's eyes darted to me, and we stared at each other for a few moments, him seemingly emotionless and me unable to contain my horror. The next thing I knew, Tristan was letting Porcius go, and he stumbled over to his Roman comrades, who all exited the tavern in a rush.

"Why did you do that?" I asked Tristan disbelievingly. "Why?

He said nothing, just reached down and ripped a chunk of his tunic off and offered it to me. When I just gazed at it blankly, he said, "For your nose."

I reached up and touched my face, only then realizing that both of my nostrils were experiencing a torrential downpour of blood, which had already run down my mouth, chin, and neck onto my tunic.

Naveen took the cloth from him when I wouldn't, and tilted my head back before pressing it to my nose. I winced at the contact with the tender skin.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Are you alright?" Gawain asked as Dagonet took over for Naveen to begin examining me for injuries.

"Yes," I responded. "Rome needs to be more selective when picking out their soldiers though. That man hits like a little girl. My nose didn't even break."

Gawain, Lancelot, and Naveen laughed at that, while Dagonet said, "You're right about it not being broken, but you should go see Severina for something to relieve pain. I expect you'll really start to feel this before the hour is up."

"Fine," I said, getting down from my stool.

"Come on," Tristan said, reaching out for my arm. I dodged his attempt at contact, and skirted around him to leave the tavern. He followed anyway, trailing me into the streets where people gazed at my face with fear like they thought the blood came from me eating some raw animal or something. I wouldn't have been surprised if some of them actually thought that.

Halfway to the infirmary, I wheeled around to stare at Tristan. He stopped, and stared down at me, eyes softening somewhat when they landed on my nose. He reached up to take my place holding the already soaked cloth to my nostrils, but I leaned away.

"Why did you do that?" I asked him.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No, so explain it to me," I snapped. "Why would you attack and nearly kill a Roman soldier so close to your freedom when you know they would have you executed for treason?"

Tristan's jaw ticked with annoyance. "He hit you."

"And I was going to hit back, if you'd given me enough time!" I cried in exasperation. "Tristan, I don't need you to take care of me. That's not why I came here. I'm here to be with you, simple as that. Let me handle my own battles. I know how to fight, and you know I know how to fight. So why would you do something like that?"

"The principle."

"What principle?"

"He thought he could touch what is mine."

I gaped at him in openmouthed bewilderment. "So it was some sort of…territorial thing? Let's establish something right now: you are not a dog, and I am not a scrap of meat. You are a man and I am a woman, and I am completely capable of rejecting any unwanted advances on my own."

He just stared at me silently, and I began to feel bad for yelling at him. After all, he was just trying to defend me. None of the things I'd said were lies, but could I honestly be angry just because I had a man who cared enough about me to protect me when I was attacked? Apparently not, because my anger started to deflate like a pair of lungs letting out a breath.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I just…don't want you to feel like you have to always be looking out for me. I did it for myself for years, and I think I'm doing pretty okay now."

When he continued to just look at me, I thought I wasn't forgiven. I was about to get angry again when he reached out and gently traced my cheek bone with the pad of his thumb before spreading out his hand across the side of face. I leaned into his palm and whispered, "I love you, and I don't want you to get in trouble for me, okay?"

He nodded in acquiescence, and this time when he reached for the cloth, I let him take it. He lifted it to examine the mess beneath, and then threw away the soiled fabric before retrieving a fresh one and holding it up to my face. I stared at his eyes, wondering what went through his mind that justified murder for a weak punch to the face.

A melancholy feeling edged its way through me at this new notion that I might never completely know this enigma of a man.

* * *

**Peidiwch â meiddio chi siarad â hi fel eich bod yn fab i ast: Don't you dare speak to her like that you son of a bitch**

**Fight, fight, fight! Ah, yes, I do love a good Roman-bashing, how about you? And as you've probably noticed, the three POV's in this fic will be Aderyn, Tristan, and Elaine. Sorry to the Arthur lovers, but he won't be getting his own say in this one. :P  
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**So something I've noticed: apparently my readers don't love me as much as other KA authors, because it seems like every story I read in this category has tons of fanart and banners, while no one's ever made anything for me. :( UNLOVED! Haha, no I'm just kidding. I love you guys, it's just something I've noticed in my adventures through the site.  
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**I hope you guys have a good week, and I'll be greedily praying for reviews until next Thursday! :D  
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	3. If I Die Tomorrow

**Be****fore anyone points it out, it actually is Thursday where I live, I swear! It might only be an hour into Thursday, but it even says it on my computer display and everything. I'm not cheating...okay, so maybe I am a little. I just love updating! You guys make my day most of the time. :P**_  
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**Anyway, to the news portion: THIS STORY IS FINISHED! Yeah, you read that right. Sixteen chapters and an epilogue, all finite. It's the fastest fic I've ever finished, but I just had so much fun writing it, I couldn't even stop. :P So absolutely no foreseen chapter delays! Woooo! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Read on!  
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_"I wake up to find myself, after all these years. And where all the time has gone, it still seems so unclear. 'Cause there's no one else since I found you. I know it's been so hard. You should know, if I die tomorrow, as the minutes fade away, I can't remember, have I said all I can say? You're my everything. You make me feel so alive. If I die tomorrow. It brings out the worst in me when you're not around. I miss the sound of your voice. The silence seems so loud."-Motley Crue_

*+*Aderyn*+*

"Then Tristan threatened to kill him but let him go anyway and we had a fight about it afterwards, and even though we made up, we didn't talk much for the rest of the day. We've been pretty tense ever since," I finished up my recollection of what happened at the tavern for Desiderius, who was stitching up a wound in Vanora's eldest daughter's palm. Nora finally felt the girl was old enough to come into the tavern to help a little bit with the cooking now that she was fourteen winters, but the second we put a knife in her hand she'd sliced herself instead of the meat. I'd volunteered to bring the girl to the infirmary to spare Vanora the trip. Desiderius had noticed the slight bruising on my nose from the punch Porcius dealt to my face nearly a week ago. Instead of going to the infirmary that day and facing Severina's wrath, I convinced Tristan I didn't need anything for the pain, so this was the first time the healer's apprentice was hearing about it.

"Some of your stories make me wish I went to the tavern more often," Desiderius laughed. "It seems like your life just automatically becomes more interesting when you spend time there."

"Since when is getting punched between the eyes interesting?"

"Since the most exciting thing I do all day is stop my mother from smothering the patients who talk back to her," he quipped, snipping the end of the thread to complete the stitching. "I have lived here all my life and yet have never had half so many anecdotes."

"Well, this is certainly one I wouldn't like to have," I grumbled, folding my arms over my chest. "If I so much as _look_ at this bruise I get a splitting headache. It's driving me mad."

Desiderius finished wrapping a bandage around Vanora's daughter's stitches, and wiped the blood from his fingertips onto a cloth he had over his shoulder. "Let me take a look at it," he said, reaching out for my face.

If most other men had approached me like that, I would most likely have gone on the defensive, not very keen on being touched by the opposite sex after the tragic events that had occurred when I was a child. But Desiderius and I were close. He was my first friend at the Wall, one of the only people that had been able to truly draw me out of my shell on my first days here. I trusted him with some things I didn't even trust to Naveen or Elaine or Tristan. He was a lot more empathetic in certain aspects.

His fingers wrapped around my chin, and he tilted me towards the light while the other hand gently probed around the bruise, making me wince a few times. "You do have some swelling, but without any ice, there's not much I can do about it. I can give you some leaves to add to your tea that can help with the headaches when you get them, if you like."

"That would be great. Thank you, Desiderius," I said.

Instead of going to get the herbs, Desiderius stayed in front of me, still holding my chin. The way he stared at me, with an intensity that was much too deep for the situation, made me uncomfortable. More and more of these uncomfortable situations kept occurring. The way he behaved in these moments reminded me of the deep, contemplative way Tristan regarded me with sometimes.

He suddenly smiled and let me go so he could retrieve my headache remedy, and the moment passed so briefly that it was easy to pretend that it didn't even happen. I glanced at Vanora's daughter, and she gave me an awkward smile.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Sir Tristan," she said quickly, standing up from the infirmary mattress she'd been sitting on.

"Tell him what?" I inquired curiously.

She looked pointedly over at Desiderius, and then back to me. "You know…_that_."

I just blinked at her confusedly, wondering if there was any possible way that an injury to the hand could affect brain functionality. Luckily Desiderius appeared then, handing me a small jar filled with brownish dried leaves, sparing me from the girl's knowing smirk.

"Just put three in your tea whenever you get a headache, five at the most depending on the severity. Any more, and you'll get sick, so pay attention to how many you use," he instructed before turning to the other girl. "And as for you, be more careful when you're cooking, alright?"

She nodded, and we bid him goodbye before making our way back to the tavern. On our way there, we passed by the stables where Jols stood outside, shouting at the latest stablehand. I'd stopped learning their names since most never lasted very long. Gendry, the only one who I'd started with that was still employed there, stood nearby, chuckling at the sight as he lead a mare back towards her stall. He waved when he saw me, and I noted the way Vanora's daughter blushed furiously at the sight of him. This may have seemed strange to me if I hadn't seen the look on Naveen's face a thousand times: whenever Gawain was within a few feet of her.

"Do you know Gendry?" I asked.

She nodded after a moment of hesitation. "He plays with my brothers sometimes."

"Oh, that's nice," I said. "He's quite handsome, isn't he? To a girl your age, I mean."

The look on her bright red face was priceless. "I-I-I don't know what…I mean I g-guess he…no."

I laughed, and patted her on the shoulder. "It's alright to think he's handsome."

"Father would be so cross with me," she admitted, biting her lip as we entered the tavern.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," I promised with a wink.

"Won't tell what?"

We both turned to look at Vanora, who was narrowing her eyes at us suspiciously. "What have you done this time, One?"

"Nothing! Why must it always be something I've done wrong?" she said offendedly.

"She really hasn't, Vanora. We were just bonding a little, I suppose," I intervened when Vanora opened her mouth to argue. She considered that for a moment, and then harrumphed, striding past us to walk around the back of the bar.

"Well, it's quite easy to bond while you cook," she snapped. "Naveen's late again, and I'm assuming at this point that Mary and Filena aren't going to show up."

"Sorry, Nora, I've got to get to the stables now," I replied. "I can run by Naveen's to get her for you if you need me to."

She sighed sadly. "No, it's alright. I'll get someone else to do it. I wouldn't want Jols to get angry with you."

I doubted it was possible for Jols to get angry at me when I was one of his best workers, but I wasn't really in the mood to make the long walk to Elaine and Naveen's flat, so I didn't protest. "Alright. I'll see you later then."

On my way to the stables, it began to rain. Everyone around the market began to frantically pack up their things to run back to their homes, but I slowed my pace, enjoying the feeling of the droplets of water on my skin. It reminded me of the days back at the cottage when I was little. If we were ever inside when it began to rain, my mother would rush us all outdoors, and we would dance together and she would always say that you could never lose touch with your childhood if you remembered not to fear the rain, because it was just water after all.

By the time I reached the stables, I was soaked to the bone and shivering but had an enormous smile on my face. Jols looked up when I entered, and his eyes bulged.

"Gods, Aderyn!" he gasped, grabbing a horse blanket from a nail on the wall, and wrapping it around my shoulders. "Why aren't you wearing a cloak? Do you _want_ to catch a fever?"

I laughed, and hugged the blanket around me as Jols continued to fuss. "You're such a mother hen, Jols," I teased. "I'm fine, really."

"I'm not a mother hen, I just don't want my best employee to freeze to death," he corrected, suddenly becoming gruff. "I need the floors swept. That fool of a boy wasted nearly an entire bale of good hay cleaning the stalls today."

"I'm assuming you don't mean Gendry," I said as I threw the horse blanket over a stall to dry and picked up the broom to begin working.

"'Course not," he scoffed. "It's that new one. Peter or Paul or Tobias. Something like that."

"So are you keeping him on?"

"Unfortunately, I have to. I'll be shorthanded again soon enough."

"Oh no, is Gendry leaving?" I asked sadly. The boy had really grown on me.

"No, he's not," Gendry answered for Jols, appearing at the other entrance to the stables with a pitchfork thrown over his shoulder and rain glistening in his short black hair. "But you will be."

"I will?"

"Well, you'll be goin' with Tristan, won't you?" Gendry said. "I'd bet my left ballsack you isn't goin' to be here once he gets those papers."

"Gendry, don't talk like that around a woman!" Jols barked. "But he makes a good point. You will be going, right?"

I shrugged. "I suppose. I haven't really thought about it."

Jols and Gendry dropped the subject then, and I was left to my thoughts, which had suddenly become quite sad. When Tristan first mentioned leaving Hadrian's Wall, I'd just been excited that he wished to include me in his life post-military. Now that I was faced with the idea of leaving the fort in only a few days, I realized I wasn't very fond of the idea of moving again. During the months I'd lived here, it had truly become my home. I could finally get around without needing help or getting lost, I had jobs, and I had friends. I knew Tristan didn't feel as attached to this place as I did, so it was doubtful that he would want to live here permanently. So when we left, there was a good chance we'd never come back.

For several hours I worked diligently on the tasks Jols assigned me while Gendry tried and failed to start conversation with me. I was too busy brooding. So focused on my melancholy thoughts, I didn't realize Tristan had entered the stables until he took the bucket I'd been using to fill the water troughs from my hands.

"What are you doing here?" I asked dully. He raised a questioning eyebrow at me, and I felt bad for my less than enthusiastic greeting. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?" he asked.

I didn't want to discuss the actual reason I was upset, so I took my time formulating a lie, watching the way the rain dripped from his beard while I thought. "Just worrying about that Bishop arriving tomorrow."

A bishop from Rome was to arrive at the fort next afternoon to give the knights their discharge from the military with papers guaranteeing their safety throughout the Roman empire. In actuality, I _was_ nervous about this man coming here, even if I was using it as a cover up. The bishop, Germanius, was supposedly an old friend of Arthur's father, but that didn't make him any more fond of the British people than most Romans.

"He won't do anything to you, not with so many eyes on him," Tristan reassured me.

"I know," I responded. "I just want him to get here, give you your papers, and get back on his high horse to ride on out of here as fast as possible." Tristan's lips twitched into the slightest of smiles at that.

"Wait, why are you here?" I asked. Normally around this time the men would start to trickle towards the tavern for their supper and ale.

"On my way to the Keep. Arthur called a meeting."

My eyes snapped up to meet his. "For what?" I asked sharply. It wasn't very often Arthur called a meeting that didn't end in a mission.

He shrugged. "Are you going to the tavern when you're done here?" he inquired.

"No," I replied, brushing the hair that fell from my bun out of my eyes. "I'm going straight back to our room. I've some sewing to do since Galahad slashed that hole in my dress while we were sparring and one of the patches in your cloak fell off."

"I'll meet you there when I'm done," he said.

I nodded in response, and he walked away to have what may very well be his last meeting at the Round Table.

*+*Tristan*+*

I was the last of the knights to get to the Fortress Hall, and by the time I arrived, the men were all well into their cups. Bors had all the men in uproarious laughter as he recounted some old tale from our early days in Briton. I stayed in the shadows near the door for a moment, watching them in their merriment. Could it really have been fifteen years ago that we'd all met? Sometimes it would feel like it may have been only a week ago, but when I think back on all the battles and the death, it could have been a century. Now we're all about to embark out on our own lives, make our peace with what's happened to us. It almost doesn't feel right to know we'll be separated soon.

"Tristan, you creepy bastard!" Galahad shouted, noticing me first. "Come on out here and join us! It's our last night as Roman pawns, you can't spend it skulking around in the shadows!"

For once I listened to the younger man, striding towards the table and sitting down in my usual spot. Someone had already put a goblet of wine there, and although it never suited my palette as much as ale, I drank deeply after sitting down.

"So what are you planning to do now, old boy?" Bors asked, slamming his empty cup down on the table. "You going to make an honest woman out of that pretty little Briton of yours?"

"If I do, you certainly won't be invited to the wedding," I snorted, tipping back my cup to finish off the contents before reaching for the pitcher to refill it.

"Aw, come on, Tris," Gawain laughed, tipping his weight onto the back two legs of his chair. "You know you'd want us all there. Your strong-and-silent act might work on the women, but not us. We know how much you love us."

"Damn right!" Galahad slurred. "We all love each other! Yer all like brothers to me."

"I think you've had enough, pup," Dagonet said with a fond smile as Gawain slid Galahad's cup away from him. Lancelot just laughed, shaking his head at them.

"I think you all might have had enough," Arthur said as he strode into the room. He was smiling as he took in the sight of his men at the Round Table. "But then again, I've never known any race to hold their alcohol like the Sarmatians."

"I'll drink to that!" Bors cheered, downing his cup again.

"Well, knights," Arthur began, "it's been fifteen years since we all first became acquainted. We've put our lives on the line for each other, buried our fellows together, survived as a unit. Out of the forty brave men that came from Sarmatia, the six of you are all that remains. You managed to endure the most difficult missions and battles. You pushed through when most others couldn't have. For that, I raise my glass to you." He paused in his speech to do just that. "I couldn't have asked for finer soldiers, and am grateful to have fought beside you for all these years. I wish you luck in the future, and pray that you all have long, fulfilling lives."

The men all began to cheer. I remained silent as I always did, unable to help but notice that Arthur was holding something back from us during his speech. I really hoped it didn't mean what I thought it did.

"Although it pains me, there is one more thing I must ask of you, however," he continued once the noise died down. "I have just received a message from Bishop Germanius himself. His caravan must travel through dangerous territory to get to the Wall. Although he has plenty of guards, he has requested that we come to meet him halfway from the coast to see him the rest of the way to the fort."

The silence that followed his words was tense and uncomfortable, even for me. Lancelot looked about ready to snap, tapping his fingers angrily against the rim of his cup.

"This Bishop…," Dagonet said slowly, "he'll be coming from the South?"

"Yes."

Suddenly Gawain laughed, startling Galahad so much he dropped his cup. "Then what are we getting all worked up about?" the blond chuckled. "The Woads are in the North!"

"You know they've been going South more and more often," Lancelot snapped.

"We know all the areas they've taken to though!" Gawain pointed out. "Why should we soil this good mood when the biggest threat we'll face tomorrow are bears and agitated squirrels?"

Galahad let out a reluctant chuckle, and Bors nodded confidently. "He's right! I'm not going to let this ruin my night." He stood up, knocking his chair over in his enthusiasm. "So we have to go pick up a cowardly Bishop and babysit him on his way here. It's just about the easiest thing we've had to do since we came here. We'll wake up tomorrow, ride out, and by the time we get back, we'll be free men. Now I'm going to go to the tavern and try to convince Vanora to leave early."

As he stumbled out, the other man began to stand, all looking much more agreeable. "We're with you, Arthur," Dagonet said, nodding at him.

Arthur smiled, and dipped his head respectfully. "Good. I would like to be home by noon, so we'll be leaving before dawn."

The commander exited the room, and the other man took that as their cue to leave as well. I stayed after the others were gone, hands gripping the back of the chair that had been mine for the entirety of my time as a knight. On the arm of it were etchings I'd carved, first to indicate the amount of battles I'd fought before I lost count, and second to leave my mark on it. The freshest ones were the deep gouges I'd made out of frustration after I'd left Aderyn. I ran my fingertips over them, remembering how enraged I was then, how much I just wanted to go back. No one in my life had ever made me feel guilty. I was a person who tended to stick with my decisions without doubting them. But she was a whole different matter. She changed everything.

I figured the rest of the knights had gone to the tavern after the meeting, but when I left the Fortress Hall, I bypassed the door that exited to the street and went straight to the stairs that lead to the private dwellings. Years ago, I used to hate the room I stayed in. I assumed that to the Romans it must seem charitable to give their "recruits" lodging without charge, and I didn't want anything they had to give me. But now that I knew what waited for me when I got there, it seemed like the Keep gained extra levels and the hallways had elongated substantially.

Upon finally entering my room, the smell of fresh bread infiltrated my nostrils. Aderyn was sitting at the table with my cloak thrown across her lap, sewing the detached patch back on. She looked up when she heard me enter, and a smile lit up her face. The sight of the scar that ran the length of her right cheek still made me angry. I'd gotten there in time to save her life, but wasn't fast enough to prevent her from being hurt.

She stood up from her chair, and crossed the room to kiss me, having to stand on the tips of her toes because she was too short to reach if I wasn't leaning down. I was a bit surprised by this show of affection considering how distant she'd been since I fought that Roman who punched her. Hell, only an hour ago she'd almost seemed annoyed when I showed up at the stables while she worked. Perhaps she was over it now.

"I got you something to eat," she said, smiling up at me with her arms still wrapped around my waist. "I thought you might be hungry."

I kissed her in thanks, and she let me go so I could eat the bread and chicken she'd brought from the tavern. She sat down across from me and resumed her sewing.

"So what was the meeting with Arthur for?" she asked. I almost believed her casual facade, but the way she bit her lip showed just how nervous she actually was.

If I told her that I would have to leave tomorrow morning, I knew just how anxious she would become, even though the threat was very small. I remembered how scared she was the other times I've had to leave her, and I didn't want to frighten her for something so insignificant. Arthur said we would be back by noon. Aderyn would be working in the tavern tomorrow morning, and I would have been on patrol duty. On those days, it was normal for us not to see each other until late in the afternoon. I didn't see the reason in telling her when she wouldn't even notice I was gone.

"Just congratulating us on surviving," I answered, paying careful attention to how I arranged my expression. Most people wouldn't be able to tell if I was lying just by looking at me, but I knew, out of everyone in the world, she was most likely to see through me.

"Oh, that's nice," she said, not doing a very good job at hiding her relief.

I stopped eating, and stared at her from behind the hair that fell across my eyes. Was it even possible for a woman to be so beguiling while doing something as simple as replacing a patch? It was almost impossible to take my eyes off of her, the way she bent herself over the cloak determinedly, her hands moving deftly, her eyes focused on the task at hand. The firelight from the lamp next to her made her hair shine like black fire, and I was floored with the realization of just how beautiful she really was.

As if sensing my scrutiny, she looked up, scrunching her nose when she caught me staring. "Is there something on my face?" she asked, reaching up to touch her chin.

I simply shook my head, unable to tell her what I was really thinking. I could never be that man for her, the one filled to the brim with loving words and affectionate gestures. After all these years of clamping down on my emotions to remain impassive, it was next to impossible for me to open myself up this late in life, even for her. I began to wonder if she actually wanted that from a relationship. She hadn't complained so far, but that didn't mean she wasn't holding herself back for my sake.

I knew there were better men out there for her, ones that would dote on her and give her anything she wanted just like she deserved. That was a given. But the idea that she might leave me for one of them when she realized my true nature hit me hard. She hadn't been in my life long, but I'd become accustomed to her, wanted her around all the time. It was hard to admit that I loved her, knowing that doing so gave me a weakness, but I did.

"Tristan, is there something wrong?" she asked concernedly, breaking me from my thoughts.

"No," I answered immediately. Perhaps a bit _too_ fast.

She wasn't fooled, and stood up from her chair to come sit across my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a kiss on the corner of my lips. And that was it, no more needling about the problem or empty words about how everything was alright. She just ran her hands through my hair soothingly, resting her head on my shoulder.

Maybe she wasn't the type of girl who needed words to define her relationship, and I was just working myself up over nothing. If she wanted to leave, she would have done it by now. And the fact that she comforted people without words might be an indicator that she didn't need them much herself.

Reassured by her concern, I stood up with her still in my arms, making her giggle and cling tighter to me. If it was my last night owning this bed, I might as well put it to good use.

* * *

**Aaaaaaand that concludes chapter three! The next one will start following along with the movie timeline, so we're starting to get into the good stuff. Sorry for the boring-ness of the first couple, I just had to give some sort of lead up into the action. :P**

**There will be pictures of Gendry and One up on the tumblr if you're interested. (Yes, Gendry is a reference to the A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones Gendry, for those of you who caught my little tribute there. :P)  
**

**So as usual, I beg you to review so I know what I'm doing right or wrong, and wish you all a good week until we speak again! :D  
**


	4. Smother Me

**I'm updating a day early because I'll be in the car all day tomorrow, on my way back home from SC.**

**Alright, I have to ask: is there something wrong with this fic so far? I've only had one review each for chapters two and three, and even those didn't seem too enthusiastic? Is it boring, did the interest in these wane during the break I took between YTAE and the sequel? I mean, I haven't really had a chance to get to the action yet, but I've never had such a...droll reaction before. If you think I'm going to get angry or have my feelings hurt, I promise that isn't the case. I just really need to be told if I'm not going to have readers because I'll just take this down if that's the case.  
**

**On a brighter note, this is dedicated to my new friend Ghost (Ghost of the old age), my fellow Australian manhunter! ;D She has been brightening my week with her messages since last chapter. :)  
**

_"I found my place in the world. Could stare at your face for the rest of my days. Now I can breathe. Turn my insides out, and smother me. Warm and alive, I'm all over you. Would you smother me? Let me the one who never leaves you all alone. I hold my breath, and lose the feeling that I'm on my own. Hold me too tight. Stay by my side."-The Used  
_

*+*Aderyn*+*

It was another one of those days where I woke up cold and alone. I frowned at the empty spot on the other side of the bed, wishing it was filled with the broody Sarmatian I loved. Sadly, things were never solved with wishes, and I remained lonesome.

I'd awoken a bit early, so I had time to see Egryn at the stables before going to work at the tavern. The horse nickered cheerfully when I walked in, nudging my forehead with his nose.

"Good morning," I said, stepping into his stall to brush him down. "You've been rolling in your hay again, haven't you?"

His only response was to kick up a load of the yellow straw at me. I huffed with annoyance, grazing my hands down my dress to remove the unwanted decoration. "Don't do that or I won't come to see you in the mornings anymore!"

I reached over to the next stall, which belonged to Tristan's horse Isolde, and grabbed his horse brush. I must have left mine behind in my quick decision to move the Wall, and had yet to get around to buying my own. I doubted Tristan would be too fond of my habit of using his if he knew. He was very possessive about the things that belonged to his horse and his hawk.

Once I was finished brushing Egryn, I gave him a carrot from the treat bag Jols kept for the horses, promised him I'd take him out for a ride later, and then started the short walk to the tavern.

It was an average cloudy day for Briton. The weather didn't quite fit the mood, however. I felt it should be much more cheery considering the knights would finally be freed today. After fifteen years of hardship and bloodshed, they would finally be able to go home. Although it pained me that I might not ever see them again (I'd come to think of some of them as friends), I was happy for them nonetheless.

I was surprised to find the tavern empty save for three tables occupied by off-duty guards. More and more soldiers were returning to Rome which meant less customers, that was true, but at least one or two of the knights was normally here around this time. How odd.

In the back I found Naveen sitting on a stool, staring off into space with a frown marring her features. When I stepped into her line of vision, she blinked, and then looked up at me. "Oh. Good morning, Addi."

"What's wrong?" I asked, bypassing any pleasantries.

"Nothing," she muttered, standing up and grabbing a rag to begin wiping down the counter we used to cook.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know," I told her. "It's not like I'll judge you for anything."

She stopped cleaning the counter, looked up at me, and then flopped back into her stool. "The knights are being released today," she said mournfully.

"Which means Gawain is being released today," I continued for her, already guessing the actual problem.

"Which means I'll never have a chance with him," she finished, staring sadly down at her knees. "Nearly two years I've been biding my time, thinking I would find the right moment. Turns out I just let him pass me by. And that's the worst part of it, isn't it? We may not have even worked out, but now I'll never know because I never got my head out of my ass."

"That's not true. There's still time."

She gave me a withering look. "They only have today left, and then they'll be going back to Sarmatia."

"A lot of things can happen in a day," I pointed out. "Besides, he might not even be going to Sarmatia. Bors and Tristan aren't, so maybe Gawain's decided not to as well."

"You and Tristan aren't going to Sarmatia?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Tristan feels he belongs here. We most likely won't be staying at the Wall, but we are staying in the country."

"Huh, out of them all, I never thought _Tristan_ would be the one to stay. I mean, I knew Bors would because of Nora and the kids, but…wow," Naveen said, more to herself than me. "Have you ever heard Gawain talk of what he planned to do?"

"No," I answered. "Most of them aren't very vocal about it."

"So…," she said, looking at me a bit hopelessly, "what do you think I should do?"

I mulled that over for a moment, knowing that the best thing I could do right now was give her a completely honest answer. "There's no harm in telling Gawain how you feel. The worst that could happen is that he doesn't reciprocate your affection, which I'm sure he does so you most likely won't have to worry about that. Perhaps knowing that you care about him will give him a reason to stay."

"I don't know, Aderyn…"

"Oh please, Naveen," I laughed, flicking her nose teasingly. "You're the boldest woman I've ever encountered in my life. You're not afraid of Romans or Woads or even the most stubborn grease stains on the dishes. I _know_ you have it in you to walk up to not-even-the-slightest-bit-intimidating Gawain and tell him how you feel."

She laughed, and shoved my shoulder. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me, you chit."

"Good," I laughed. "I would wish you good luck, but you won't need it. Gawain adores you."

Vanora walked in through the back door then, lugging two buckets filled with water. "Finally going to tell him then, is she?" the older woman asked, beaming after she set down the buckets.

"Is this some sort of running joke?" Naveen grumbled.

"Of course it is, dearie. Anyone who's ever laid eyes on the two of you have been expecting this day. You did pick a bit of an unfortunate one to gather your confidence."

"Well, even if he is returning to Sarmatia, it'll take him several days to make the arrangements anyway," I acknowledged. "You have some time."

"Perhaps I should go to him now," Naveen said hesitantly. "I think I might lose my aplomb if I don't do it soon."

"Afraid you can't," Vanora said, filling a pitcher with ale to serve the few men in the bar. "The knights have gone."

My head snapped up to stare at her. "The knights have _what_?"

She turned to look at me confusedly. "They've gone," she repeated. "That Bishop that comes to give them their papers requested an escort. Arthur told them last night at the meeting."

"Last night?"

"Tristan didn't tell you then?" Vanora guessed sheepishly.

"No, he bloody well did not!" I snarled. "He said Arthur was just congratulating them on making it out of Briton alive! Oh, when I get my hands on that lying, sneaky anghyfreithlon, byddaf yn ei wneud yn dymuno erioed wedi ei eni!"

Vanora and Naveen exchanged a look that told me they might think I'm a bit unhinged, but I ignored them in favor of seething quietly. He'd lied to me and then brought me to our bed under false pretenses! It was made even worse by the fact that where he was going wasn't exactly a safe area. If the bishop needed an escort, that meant there had to _some_ level of danger. The thought of that quickly changed my crossness to full-out anxiety. The transition must have showed on my face because Vanora reached over to pat my hand reassuringly.

"No need to worry, Addi," she said. "Bors said they'll be back by noon. Can't be that bad if it'll only take a few hours."

I attempted to swallow past the lump in my throat, trying to coax my anger back. I'd rather be infuriated than cripplingly concerned. "Well, he's the one that should be worried," I said, lacking the gusto of before. "The usual joyous homecoming won't be waiting for him this time, that's for sure."

*+*Elaine*+*

After checking my reflection for what must be the hundredth time in a bowl I'd filled with water, I was still unsure of myself. I'd woken up early today even though I didn't have to be to work at the tavern until late, all so I could have extra time to arrange my appearance. I had to look perfect today, or at least as perfect as I could get with what I had to work with. I'd bathed at the Keep, and then braided my hair to dry so it hung in shiny golden curls. I was wearing my best dress, a beautiful pale blue and white one that used to be my mother's. It had not a single blemish or rip upon it, and it was only worn a handful of times between its two owners, so it looked brand new. I scraped all the dirt from under my nails, used rose petals to add some color to my pale cheeks, and then used two silver combs to pull back the sides of my hair to bring my face into focus. In my opinion, I looked the best I ever had. I just hoped Lancelot would agree.

It was all for him, of course. This was likely his last night at Hadrian's Wall. He was one of the knights that was very adamant about going home to Sarmatia, so I knew it could be only a matter of time before he was gone once he had those papers in his hand. This was my final chance. I couldn't mess it up this time. He just had to notice me now, or else I think my heart might just break completely if I have to watch him gallop off into the unknown, for good this time.

Finally the moment came, and I left for the tavern, my heart slamming against my ribcage with nervousness. Who knew how tonight could end? All I knew was that this might just define the rest of my life. I took a deep breath, and walked outside.

I kept to the shadows on my way to the tavern, staying out of the way of anything that could possibly make me dirty and not wanting anyone else to see me all dressed up like this. I would be sure to attract attention, which was something I didn't want unless it came from Lancelot.

I took the back entrance to the tavern so I wouldn't have to walk past the tables, and the sound of men enjoying themselves assaulted my eardrums when I stepped in. To my surprise, Naveen, Vanora, and Aderyn were all in the back, which wasn't at all common. Vanora never trusted the other barmaids to hold the floor by themselves, so at least one of them was normally out serving. That could only mean…

"What is wrong?" I asked.

They all looked up at me, the distress clear in their eyes.

"The knights had a mission," Naveen said.

"They said they'd be back at noon," Vanora added in a worried tone.

"So that means…," I began slowly, unable to even finish the thought.

"They're just about five hours late," Aderyn finished, her voice taut with stress as she put her head in her hands. "Something's gone wrong."

*+*Tristan*+*

Today hadn't gone as planned. We were supposed to leave at dawn, reach the bishop, and then escort him back to the fort. The first part went smoothly, but the very moment we met up with the bishop, his caravan was attacked by Woads.

To say that was a surprise would be an understatement. The Woads had stayed far away from that area before, even though they had ventured South. Arthur had a feeling they saw the convoy and couldn't pass up the opportunity. Either way, their audacity was fast becoming a cause for concern. Who knew how long it would be before they simply threw caution to the wind and attacked the fort?

I had to remind myself that that wasn't my problem to worry about anymore. I was leaving, and with the most important person to me by my side. The Wall would be nothing but a distant memory in a few days. But until I left Hadrian's Wall behind, the threat was looming on the horizon.

The knights, Arthur, and I rode up to the hill overlooking the fort, and paused, staring out over it. Finally, we were back. After cleaning up the bodies of the slain Woads and Roman guards, our schedule of returning back at noon had been completely thrown. The sun was close to setting now, so we were about six hours behind.

"Well, now that we're free men, I'm gonna drink 'til I can't piss straight," Bors announced, breaking the silence.

"You do that every night," Gawain pointed out.

"I never could piss straight," the older man replied. We already knew where he was going with this, as he had mentioned it at least a hundred thousand times since we were boys. "Too much of myself to handle…_down there_." When all the others did was stare at him boredly, he continued. "Well, it's a problem. No, really, it is. It's a problem. It's like a-"

"Baby's arm holding an apple," Gawain, Galahad, Dagonet, and Lancelot all chorused, knowing this speech by heart. Bors tried to look annoyed, but ended up laughing with the others as we steered our horses around to the road that went through the gates of the fort.

"Might want to wipe the blood off your face, Tris," Gawain suggested jokingly. "I doubt your lady will feel very keen on parting her knees to welcome you back if you've got the guts of her people all over you."

Bors laughed when I scowled at the blond. Nevertheless, I grabbed the back of my cloak and used it to wipe my face clean, not because I was concerned about Aderyn's willingness to mate with me, but because I knew she was already going to be angry I'd left without telling her. If I came back looking like I'd been in a fight much worse than the one that actually took place, she'd be even less likely to calm down.

When I woke up this morning, it had still been quite dark out, and I had plenty of time before I had to get ready. I'd taken that rare peaceful moment to study her in the light from the moon that came in through our window. When she was asleep, she looked much more childlike…innocent even, resembling the girl who'd held my hand while she cried in her sleep back in the cottage in the forest. Lying there next to her, I felt more at home than I ever had anywhere in my life. I'd traced the shape of her jaw with my fingers, trailing over her neck to run my hand down the length of her bare back. She sighed contentedly in her sleep, and smiled as she whispered, "Tristan."

There was just something about her mouth shaping my name that was so unbelievably sensual. Things that all women did seemed a thousand times more erotic when she did them. Even the smallest little gestures, like biting into an apple or brushing her hair behind her ear made an animalistic side of me stir and demand I get her back to our bedroom as fast as possible. She was like my own personal catalyst, evoking reactions from me that no one else could.

"I don't like him, the Roman." I instantly broke out of my thoughts to tune into Galahad's words, ever aware of what was going on around me. "If he's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?"

I didn't like the Roman either. He had a devious look to him that I didn't like, one that brought foxes to mind. Not to mention that a bishop with military skills couldn't be a good thing.

"Is this your happy face?" Gawain asked sarcastically, evoking a laugh from Bors and a reluctant smile out of his younger companion. "Galahad, do you still not know the Romans? They won't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony."

"Well, why don't you just kill him, and then discharge yourself after?" Bors advocated.

"I don't kill for pleasure," Galahad responded. "Unlike some."

He directed his gaze at me pointedly, and I had to fight back a smile. The boy truly was naive. "Well, you should try it some day," I suggested casually. "You might get a taste for it."

Gawain laughed, and Galahad's frown deepened. "It's a part of you," Bors told the younger knight. "It's in your blood."

"No, no, no," Galahad protested. "_No_. As of tomorrow, this was all just a bad memory."

"Oooh," Bors hummed in mock-realization. Obviously fed up with the other knights, Galahad spurned his horse forward to ride in front of them instead.

"I've often thought about what going home will mean after all this," Gawain spoke up. "What will I do? It's different for Galahad. I have been in this life longer than any other. So much for home. It's not so clear in my memory."

"Well, you speak for yourself," Bors replied. "It's cold back there, and everyone I know is dead and buried. Besides I have, I think, a dozen children."

"Eleven," Gawain corrected.

Bors took a moment to flash the blond a surprised look, as if wondering why the man was keeping count when he himself wasn't, and then continued, "You listen. When the Romans leave here, we'll have the run of all this place. I'll be governing my own village, and Dagonet will be my guard and royal ass-kisser. Won't you, Dag?"

The largest knight simply gave Bors an unimpressed look, as if not at all fond of that idea. I had to agree with him. Bors having his own village wasn't the best concept. But hell, he could have populated an entire village with all of his children already anyhow.

"The first thing I will do when I get home is find myself a beautiful Sarmatian woman to wed," Gawain declared.

"'A beautiful Sarmatian woman'?" Bors repeated skeptically. "Why do you think we left in the first place?" He made a sound like a cow mooing, and he and Gawain laughed uproariously.

"Anyway," Bors continued when he had control of his chuckling, "Briton women have it all over Sarmatian women, in every aspect. Tristan and I know firsthand. Isn't that right?" I ignored him in favor of adjusting my grip on the reins, but the man wouldn't let up. "Oh, come on, Tris. You can't tell us that spitfire of yours isn't a little devil between the sheets."

"You forget that Tristan isn't big on sharing, Bors," Gawain chortled. "Why should it be any different with his sex life?"

Lancelot rode up next to Bors then, and he, thankfully, changed the subject away from Aderyn. "What about you, Lancelot? What are your plans for home?"

"Well, if this woman of Gawain's is as beautiful as he claims, I expect to be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house," Lancelot answered suavely, making Bors snigger. "His wife will welcome the company."

"I see, and what will I be doing?" Gawain asked, unamused.

"Wondering at all your good fortune that all your children look like me," Lancelot answered with a shit-eating grin as he spurned his horse forward to ride next to Arthur.

"Is that before or after I hit you with my axe?" Gawain called after him, having to raise his voice to be heard over Bors's loud belly laugh.

I heard the cry of a bird, and looked to the sky. The familiar form of my hawk circled over me, and I held out my arm, whistling for her to come down. She dove towards me, pulling up at the last second so she could land on my arm. I hadn't seen her in a few days. I assumed she'd been hunting during that time. I never worried about her during long absences. She always came back.

"Where you been, eh?" I asked, stroking the feathers on her throat. "Where you been?"

She squawked, and bobbed up and down on my arm. I reached into my saddlebag and pulled out some dried meat I kept for her. She took it greedily, chomping away.

As we came up to the entrance to the fort, she flew off, preferring the skies to the hustle and bustle of the streets. The people parted to let us pass, staring in awe like we were some sort of phenomena instead of just seven dirty men who were in desperate need of food and drink.

The gates to the Keep opened upon our approach, and we all filed in first, followed by the remaining Roman guards and the carriage with Bishop Germanius in it. When the man emerged from behind the curtain, all of his guards saluted him. That was my biggest problem with Christianity. Its followers treated the priests and prophets like they were on the same level as their actual god.

Jols appeared with his more capable stable boy. I couldn't quite remember the boy's name, but I knew Aderyn got along well with him. The stablemaster grabbed the reins of Arthur and Lancelot's horses, greeting them warmly. Once they were dismounted, the rest of us slid off our horses as well. My muscles all groaned in protest, and I began to look forward to a warm bath to soothe the ache, something I never would have wished for until Aderyn.

Germanius looked around as if he were disgusted by the state of the people, staying as far away from the gate as he could, like he might catch poverty like a disease if he were any closer to them. Arthur strode up to him, smiling politely, he opened his mouth in preparation to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden yelp from a guard by the gate as he was violently shoved aside by Aderyn, who came storming across the yard towards us.

"Might I ask," she roared, "why I had to find out from Vanora that you'd left?" She stomped over until we were almost nose to nose, and then continued to shout. "I wake up this morning thinking you've just gone on patrol, but come to find out you've gone tramping through the wilderness on another mission! _A mission_! After you specifically told me you didn't have one! I can't _believe _you! You complete and utter celwyddog! Yr wyf yn credu i chi, rydych mochyn! Sut ydych chi'n meddwl ei fod yn gwneud i mi deimlo i edrych fel ffwl o flaen Vanora a Naveen? Mae'n debyg nad oes gennym unrhyw ymddiried o gwbl yn ein perthynas! BETH SYDD GENNYCH I'W DDWEUD I CHI EICH HUN?"

All activity in the square had ceased, and everyone was now staring at us in silent astonishment. I had a feeling most of them expected me to snap and kill her or at the very least hit her. Since she'd been teaching me her language, I'd understood a good deal of what she said and was almost surprised myself when I didn't lash out, but I managed to keep my composure, settling for narrowing my eyes in warning instead. Aderyn, having noticed just how silent it was, stared around at all the people gawking at us. She shrunk instantly, looking incredibly embarrassed.

"Bishop, please," Arthur said, gesturing towards the entrance to the Keep in an obvious attempt at distracting the man. "My quarters have been made available to you."

"Ah, yes," the man said slowly, eyes surveying Aderyn speculatively. I didn't fail to notice how his eyes trailed over the tattoos around her neck, and sidestepped so that he couldn't see her anymore. "I must rest."

Once he and his guard had entered the building, Arthur turned to us and said, "Fortress Hall in two hours, look presentable." He was plainly irritated by the scene Aderyn had just caused, even if he was trying to hold it back. Leaving their horses in the care of the stablemaster, the men started towards the Keep to get washed up before the meeting. Bors and Vanora began their usual argument, turning the attention away from me and Aderyn. I grabbed her by her upper arm and began to drag her to our room while she protested vehemently and scratched at my hand.

Once we reached our room, I pushed her inside and slammed the door behind us. Instantly she was on me again, poking me in the chest as she screeched, "Why did you lie to me? Something could have happened to you, and I wouldn't even have known you weren't at the fort! I'VE BEEN WORRIED OUT OF MY MIND!"

"That's why," I answered simply. "I didn't want you to worry when there wasn't anything to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about, hmm?" she asked sarcastically, reaching over and wiping the front of my armor and then holding up her bloodstained fingers for me to see. "Tell me, were you pelted with _tomatoes_ on your in?"

"There was a bit of a problem with some Woads, nothing serious."

"That's your problem, Tristan. Bloodshed is just 'nothing serious'."

"If you care so much for the Woads, then you should have joined them instead of coming here." I hadn't meant to snap at her, but I was tired and hungry and frankly, sick of being screamed at.

"Them?" she growled. "You think it's _them_ I'm worried about? Make no mistake, those are my people you slaughter by the hundreds every time you walk out those gates, but _you_ are the one I care for, you great bloody oaf! It pains me to say I'm relieved you killed them all because it means you're safe, but the fact that you were in danger at all is the real reason I'm so riled up!"

For a minute or so we both just stood across from each other, coming down from our anger. I understood why she was so vexed. I would have been just as furious with her if she'd lied to me and then put herself into danger. At this point, I was done with this argument, and just wanted to forget it so that I could eat.

I reached out, intending to touch her cheek, but she smacked my hand. I tried a second time, and again, she pushed me away.

"Stop it," she said. "I'm still mad at you."

I ignored that, and stepped towards her. She took another step away, and I followed. This continued until I had her backed up against the wall. Her glare reminded me of a caged wild animal.

"Tristan, don't."

I completely disregarded her words, put my hands on the wall on either side of her head, and leaned down to kiss her quickly. I pulled away before she could react, paused for a second, and then asked, "Are you still angry?"

"Yes, of course!"

I kissed her again, longer this time, and then inquired, "How about now?"

"Mhm," she responded with much less conviction.

So I kissed her another time, moving my hand to the back of her head to gain more leverage. After a few moments, she kissed me back, grabbing the fastener to my cloak to drag me as close to her as possible. She opened her mouth invitingly, and I deepened the kiss. I let go of her head in order to reach down and grab her thighs, lifting her up to wrap her legs around my waist and leaning her back against the wall. She clung to my shoulders as I asked, "Still angry?

"I hate you," she hissed as I started to kiss her neck while untying the laces on her dress.

By the sounds she was making, I sincerely doubted that.

* * *

**anghyfreithlon, byddaf yn ei wneud yn dymuno erioed wedi ei eni!: bastard, I will make him wish he'd never been born!**

**celwyddog! Yr wyf yn credu i chi, rydych mochyn! Sut ydych chi'n meddwl ei fod yn gwneud i mi deimlo i edrych fel ffwl o flaen Vanora a Naveen? Mae'n debyg nad oes gennym unrhyw ymddiried o gwbl yn ein perthynas! BETH SYDD GENNYCH I'W DDWEUD I CHI EICH HUN?: liar! I believed you, you pig! How do you think it makes me feel to look like a fool in front of Vanora and Naveen. It is like we have no trust at all in our relationship! What do you have to say for yourself?**

**So we're finally into the movie, which means the drama has officially begun. It will get more intense as time goes on...that is, if you even really care about this fic anymore. I hate to whine, I really do, but if you read any of my previous work, you'll know just how little confidence I have in my abilities, so it kind of hurts when no one acknowledges my efforts. :\  
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**Sorry, I'll shut up now. Have a good week, until next time.  
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	5. It's You

**Hello****, my little darlings! How has your week gone? Mine's been good. :D**_  
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**So my reviews went up, thankfully. I was really starting to worry about this. I still am, but I feel a lot better with your reassurances. To TheOneAndOnly, I wish you had an account so I can reply to your review! It was so sweet, thank you!  
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**On to the reading!  
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_"This world is always trying to take a piece of me, but you are always there to make me feel complete. If I can keep my eyes on what you have for me, I will face the truth and never look away. You show me the real me. It's you that I search for. It is you I can't live without. Your hope is what I long for when nothing's left in me. It's you. When I have nowhere else to go and I can't find my way out, your light, it comes to guide me. I can't hide. You show me the real me."-Fireflight_

*+*Aderyn*+*

I managed to get Tristan to bathe before leaving for the Fortress Hall, although I had a feeling he was just putting up a fight out of principle rather than any desire to remain dirty. While he ate, I stood behind him and plaited the longer bits of his hair to keep it out of his way, as I usually did. I knew that if anyone were to walk in right now, they would see the epitome of a domesticated couple, and Tristan would most likely be infuriated if anyone knew just how normal we'd become over these past couple months. A bit too like Vanora and Bors for his liking, I assumed.

After he left for the meeting, I got to work cleaning up our bedroom. As I replaced the linens on the bed, I wondered why I was even bothering. It was highly doubtful this room would belong to me for more than another week. To leave it like this felt wrong, however, so I continued to tidy up.

There was a knock at the door right as I was about to begin scraping the dried blood from Tristan's armor, and I was surprised to find Jols on the other side. He'd cleaned himself up a bit more than usual…or at least there wasn't any hay stuck in his hair and the smell of horse was a bit less potent.

"Gendry's mother tripped over a pig and broke her leg," he said without preamble. "I need you to come with me to escort the bishop."

"Why me?" I asked, sounding a bit more whiny than I intended.

"Because I don't trust the other ones," he answered, grabbing my arm and beginning to pull me after him. "We're already late, get a move on!"

"Dammit, Jols," I growled, slamming my bedroom door behind me. "You need to find more competent stable boys so I don't have to do their dirty work."

"Compared to everything else you do under my employment, I would say it's a stretch to call _this_ the dirty work," he chuckled.

"I have to give you that one," I agreed.

We walked towards the front of the Keep, to Arthur's chambers. His was the largest in the building, so he thought it was only appropriate to give them to his superior. If I were in Arthur's position, I would have housed the man in the stables. Surrounded by shit, just like he and the rest of the Romans deserved.

Jols knocked on the Bishop's door, and then entered without waiting for a reply. I shuffled in after him, staying slightly behind him as to remain unnoticed. I had a feeling they might remember me from my lovely performance with Tristan earlier.

"Sir, we're here to escort you to the Fortress Hall," Jols announced.

The Bishop smiled, but the way he surveyed Jols like he was something he'd find in the dark depths of a chamber pot was anything but friendly. He strode around us, barely glancing at me, and began down the hallway without waiting for us. His manservant, an effete man with dark hair and an attachment to his master that seemed to border on absolute worship, approached us with a box lined with fine leather in his arms.

"When my master meets with your knights, he must be seated last, and he must be seated at the head of the table," he told us.

I barely managed to choke back my laughter at that last part. Good luck finding the head of the table. "Your master can plop his holy ass wherever he chooses," Jols answered, clearly thinking along the same lines as me.

The manservant smiled at us like he thought we were complying with his wishes, and then let us go ahead of him. The Bishop was waiting at the end of the corridor, and waved us ahead impatiently. Jols took the lead while I walked just the slightest bit behind him with the Bishop next to me and his manservant at the back.

I could feel the bishop's eyes on me as we walked, but refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how uncomfortable he made me. I held my chin aloft and kept taking sure steps so as to look completely unbothered.

"Your tattoos," he spoke up suddenly. "They are quite interesting."

"Thank you, sir," I answered. It was obvious by the pause that he expected me to offer up more information, but I didn't. Besides, it was clear by his repulsed look that he knew where they came from. The Woad influence in the feather was impossible to miss. Even though he was a fool to believe in his god, I knew he wasn't that stupid. Not to mention the fact that Tristan's tattoos weren't exactly subtle, and the ones on my throat were precise replicas of his.

Jols opened the door to the Fortress Hall, and the manservant strode in first to announce his master. I could hear the surprise and hesitance in his voice as he spoke up to be heard over the knights' laughter, and exchanged an amused glance with Jols as the Bishop strode in.

Jols and I were the last to enter. All of the knights were standing out of respect for the Bishop…except Tristan, of course, who was just pouring himself another drink carelessly.

The manservant stomped over to Jols, looking supremely irritated, and hissed, "A _round_ table?! What sort of evil is this?!"

"Arthur says for men to be men, they must first all be equal," Jols answered, unconcerned, then turned his attention to me as servants filed in with drink. "Help the lads hand out the wine."

"I was given to understand there would be more of you," Germanius said, staring around at the mostly empty table.

"There were," Arthur replied. "We have been fighting here for fifteen years, Bishop."

"Ah, of course," the Bishop said, reaching over to take a golden goblet from a serving boy. They took that as their cue to begin handing out the drinks, and when I moved to help one of the boys who barely looked strong enough to hold his tray, Tristan looked up at me just as I looked over at him. His lips turned down into a frown, and he finally stood up to take the goblet the bishop's manservant was offering him.

The Bishop began some long-winded speech about the bravery of Arthur and the Sarmatians, but I tuned it out in favor or doing my duty. I handed Lancelot his goblet, moving onto Gawain and Galahad afterwards. When I gave the youngest knight his cup, he glanced at Germanius and made a gesture like he was hanging himself on an imaginary noose. I nearly laughed out loud, trying to pass off the noise I made as a cough.

"…your finals days as servants to the empires," the Bishop was saying, finally finishing up his speech.

"Day, not 'days'," Lancelot said, catching the wording the man used.

The Bishop waved it off, and then bid them all sit down. Jols and I stayed standing near the door, unobtrusively observing the meeting as it took place.

"The pope's taken a personal interest in you," the Bishop said, as if it were some great honor. "He inquires after each of you, and is curious to know if your knights have converted to the word of our savior or-"

"They retain the religion of their forefathers, I have never questioned that," Arthur interrupted quickly.

"Of course, of course. They are Pagans." I didn't miss the way his eyes flicked over to me as he said it. "For our part, the church has deemed such beliefs innocent. But you, Arthur, your path to God is through Pelagius? I saw his image in your room."

I had heard Arthur speak reverently of the man who'd taught him as a child, but had never met him, as he had left Briton not long after the Sarmatians had arrived.

"He took my father's place for me," the Commander answered. "His teachings on free will and equality have been a great influence. I look forward to our reunion in Rome."

The Bishop suddenly looked awkward, and stumbled a bit over his next words. "Ah…Rome awaits your arrival with great anticipation. You are a hero! In Rome, you will live out your days in honor and wealth."

It seemed rather disrespectful to mention that in front of the knights. They'd fought just as hard as Arthur had, yet they were simply being set free into their homeland without so much as a coin from the Romans for all that they'd done. More likely than not, the six of them would spend the rest of their days living day to day, hunting for food they couldn't pay for and making their own clothes from the skins of their kills.

"Alas, we are all but players in an ever-changing world," the Bishop sighed as his servant brought over the leather box and set it beside him at the table. "Barbarians from every corner are almost at Rome's door. Because of this Rome and the Holy Father have decided to remove ourselves from indefensible outposts such as Briton." The men all stirred, standing and exchanging furious glances as the Bishop continued unbothered. "What will become of Briton is not our concern anymore. I suppose the Saxons will claim it soon."

I couldn't stop myself from gasping, reaching up one hand to touch the scar on my face. Those absolute _monsters_ claiming Briton? None of us would survive it! My people would be entirely wiped out!

"Saxons?" Arthur asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," the bishop said as he opened the leather box. "In the North, a massive Saxon excursion has begun."

"The Saxons only claim what they kill," Lancelot pointed out.

"And only kill everything," Gawain added.

"So you would just leave the land to the Woads?" Galahad asked, covering up his anger with faux amusement. "I risked my life for nothing?"

The Bishop just smiled, and held up the leather box, which had six pristine scrolls tied together inside of it. "Gentlemen, your discharge papers with safe conduct throughout the Roman empire." Galahad leaned across the table towards the box like it was a scrap of meat and he was a starving man. "But first, I must have a word with your commander…in private."

"We have no secrets," Arthur protested. In response, the Bishop's jaw tensed, and he slammed the box with their discharge papers inside shut with a loud bang that reverberated off the walls.

Lancelot was the first to acquiesce. "Come," he said, raising his glass to Arthur and the Bishop. "Let's leave Roman business to Romans." He downed the rest of his wine, and then set his cup down before heading to the door.

Dagonet was next, clapping Bors on the shoulder when he looked like he planned to stand there for the rest of the night until he got his papers. "Let it go, Bors," he said, walking to the door with Gawain and Galahad on his heels.

Tristan picked up his gold goblet as he left, probably trying to decide how much it would be worth, and Bors spared one last glare for the Bishop before following suit. Arthur glanced at Jols and I, and said, "Jols, Aderyn, you're dismissed." Jols nodded once, and then we both went out the same door as the knights.

The second the door shut behind me, Tristan was standing in front of me. "Why were you in there?" he asked, annoyed.

"Gendry was supposed to assist Jols, but his mother broke her leg, so he asked me to," I explained.

"I don't want you around that man," he growled. "No matter how 'innocent' his church says Pagans are, he doesn't like them."

I smiled, wrapped my arms around his waist, and leaned forward to kiss the side of his neck. He tilted his head a little bit so I could see his eyes more clearly, and I said, "You don't have to worry about me all the time."

"That might be true if you'd stop throwing yourself in the path of everything that wants to hurt you," he grumbled, pushing some flyaway hairs from my face.

"Well, if I did that there would be no one to keep you on your toes all the time," I teased, poking his ribs. "I'm keeping you sharp, Tristan, you should thank me."

"You're nowhere near as funny as you think you are."

"I disagree." I glanced around his shoulder, down the hall. All of the knights had left for the tavern already, leaving us alone. "Come on, we should get to the tavern. It might be your last night to spend with all of them." He nodded, and we entered the hallway that lead to the exit.

The tavern was bustling with activity. Off-duty wall guards plus the knights and the soldiers the Bishop brought with him had made the tavern return to its old amount of activity. It looked almost like it used to when I first arrived, filled to bursting with patrons.

The knights were at their usual table, being served by a barmaid with a particularly unpleasant face whom I recognized as being friends with Medea, the prostitute who hated me. I ignored her as I sat down next to Tristan.

"It's your last night, Gawain," the girl was purring as she poured him a drink with her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress at the angle she was leaning towards him. "I think I might be free to keep you company for the night."

To my immense satisfaction, Gawain just laughed at the suggestion. "No, I don't think so."

She huffed, but didn't seem very deterred as she continued to fill the rest of the cups at the table. Not particularly enjoying the woman's presence, I turned to Tristan and said, "I'm going to go say hello to Vanora and Elaine. I'll be right back."

He just grunted in reply, so I took that as my leave. The back of the bar was even more hectic as barmaids flew around trying to get orders out to the customers. Vanora was stirring the huge stew pot while shrieking at four of her children who were in the back with her. Elaine was at the bar, filling mugs up as fast as she could. When she saw me, she immediately left her task and ran to me.

"Oh goodness, have you seen him?" the blonde girl asked, speaking of Lancelot. "Nora said she wasn't paying much attention to the others because she was so cross with Bors, so she didn't see if they were injured. Is he alright?"

I laughed, putting my hands on her shoulders calmingly. "Calm down, Lainey, he's fine," I soothed her. "They all are. Not a scratch on them. He's actually right over there."

She leaned around to see where I was pointing, and visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank goodness. I was so anxious when you told me they were late."

"Well, everything's fine. So take a breath."

"Addi, what are you doing back here?" Vanora asked. "You're off tonight, go sit with your man."

I looked around at all of the activity and asked, "Are you sure you don't need any help?"

"I won't hear anything about it, young lady," the redhead snapped, coming around the corner of the bar and physically pushing me towards the front of the tavern. "Go, and don't let me see you again unless you're asking for something to drink!" I laughed, and obeyed her order, walking back towards the table. What I saw there made me freeze in my tracks.

The same girl who'd only a moment ago been trying to proposition Gawain was now hanging over Tristan, whispering something in his ear. He'd leaned away from her and appeared peeved by her presence, but the way her fingers were trailing up his arm was making my blood begin to boil. I knew she knew that he was spoken for. It was common knowledge in the fort, gossip that had travelled fast because it was so astonishing to everyone that any girl had managed to capture the evasive scout. The fact that she knew and was still all over him made an anger the like of which I'd never felt suddenly burst forth, and I started walking faster than before, seriously considering wringing her pretty little neck when I got to her.

I stopped in front of them, and slammed my hands down on the table. She turned her attention to me, and then ran her gaze from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes, unimpressed. "Did you need something?" she asked irritatedly.

"This is more about what _you_ need," I answered icily. "Is it possible to be a prostitute when all you're fingers have been removed?" I grabbed the wrist of the hand that was still on Tristan's arm, and jerked it towards me, grabbing her smallest finger and bending it back far enough to make her wince. "I don't even need a knife to do it, you know. You might actually be surprised at how easy it is. Here, how about I show you."

I bent the finger back further, and she squealed, wrenching herself from my grip, grabbing her tray, and scurrying off with a look of defeat in her eyes. I glared after her, bypassing my chair in favor of sitting in Tristan's lap. Gawain and Galahad were laughing hysterically, barely able to get a coherent word out.

"Damn, woman!" Gawain choked. "You really know how to put the fear in 'em!"

"Am I sitting too close to him?" Galahad asked, shuffling his chair away from Tristan. "I wouldn't want you to rip my fingers off too."

"Oh, shut up," I barked, making them laugh even harder.

Tristan's arms came around me, and he whispered close to my ear, "Jealous now, are we?"

"No," I said quickly, turning away from him.

He gripped my chin, and pulled my face back to him to whisper, "I would have women hang on me every night if I knew it would make you react like that. I'd ravish you right here and now if I had even an ounce less self-control."

I turned completely red, and bit my lip to hold back the embarrassed giggle that tried to fight its way from me. I sensed rather than saw his self-satisfied smirk.

"So you lot are alive. The gods are probably crying with relief that they don't have to deal with you for awhile longer," Naveen said as she approached us, plopping down in the seat I'd been occupying before.

"Ah, Naveen," Gawain said happily. "You're a bit late to miss the highlight of the evening, I'm afraid. Our darling, innocent little Aderyn here just threatened to disembowel a whore who touched Tristan."

"Did she now?" Naveen asked, smiling at me. "I'm proud of you."

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically. "Aren't you all just hilarious?"

"I think we're pretty funny, don't you, Gawain?" she asked him with a smile.

"Quite full of comedic genius," the blond agreed, grinning back at her. For a moment, they just continued to look at each other with their smiles still plastered on their faces, and it quickly became awkward for everyone else at the table.

"Well, I see a game of dice calling my name," Lancelot said, standing and taking his mug with him. "By your leave, gentlemen, ladies."

"I'm going to go see Nora," Bors said after Lancelot was gone, lumbering towards the bar to go to his lady, leaving only Gawain, Naveen, Galahad, Tristan, and I at the table. It suddenly dawned on me that we were missing someone.

"Where's Dagonet?" I asked, looking around the tavern.

Galahad seemed surprised too, staring around for any sign of the giant knight. "He was right behind us. Must have gone to his room or something."

"I hope he joins us eventually," I said honestly. It wasn't hard to sense the homesickness that hung over Dagonet like a perpetual cloud, always making him seem sad even when he laughed. He was the oldest boy to be brought from Sarmatia to Briton, old enough to have very distinct memories of his home and the people he'd loved. It was worse for him than it was the others.

"Fancy a drink?" Naveen asked, holding out a goblet to me. I wrinkled my nose at it, and she snorted. "Come on, it's not going to bite you."

I grumbled incoherently as I took a quick swig, nearly gagging. I hadn't grown accustomed to alcohol yet despite having it multiple times, and much preferred water to the sting of ale in my throat.

But tonight was a celebration, and I would just have to suck it up. I held my breath and took a huge gulp, followed by Naveen's whoop of pride.

This was going to be a long night.

/\/\/\/\/\

Not even an hour later, Gawain and Galahad were already piss drunk. They were taking turns throwing knives at a makeshift target, which was actually just an overturned stool on top of a table. Lancelot was still at his dice, Bors was in the back caring for his youngest while Vanora worked, and Dagonet and Arthur had yet to make an appearance. Naveen and I were the only ones left sitting at the table, though Tristan and Jols stood behind us, watching the other two knights at their game, and Galahad was sitting on the table with a girl in his lap while he waited for his turn.

"Watch this," Gawain slurred, setting his dagger on the ground. He stumbled slightly as he stood back up, but managed to maintain his balance. In the blink of an eye, he kicked the blade up, caught it, and tossed it at the stool, landing it perfect in the center of one of the legs. He gaped at his handiwork for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Galahad, for whatever reason, laughed just as hard.

"It's a good thing that their skill with weapons doesn't decrease when they're drunk," Naveen said to me, leaning over to be heard over the noise. "I fear we may have lost one of them by now if it weren't the case."

I watched as Gawain tripped over to the target and nearly fell flat on his back when the knife loosed from the wood, and replied, "No question of it."

The blond knight stumbled back to the starting point, dropping his knife back to the ground, and then pausing to take a deep drink from his cup. He turned unfocused eyes back to Naveen and declared, "This one's for that girl right there," pointing at me, "the most beautiful girl in this entire bloody country!"

"Didn't know you'd taken such a shine to me, Gawain," I teased.

He looked down at his hand, realized he'd pointed in the wrong direction, and redirected his finger to Naveen. "I meant the other one."

Naveen blushed and muttered to me, "I suppose chivalry's not dead after all…drunk as it may be."

Gawain turned back to his target, flicked his long hair out of his eyes, and started to wind up his arms, nearly throwing himself off balance when he rolled his shoulder too much. Finally, he took aim and threw, hitting the exact same mark as he had last time.

"HAH!" he yelled. "Beat that, pup!"

Galahad stood up, shucking the woman off his lap, and prepared to take his own shot. Gawain looked around for a place to sit, and when he found none, simply stepped up to Naveen's chair and lifted her out of it. She let out a cry of surprise which he ignored as he planted himself in the chair, and then pulled her back down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her so she had no chance of escape.

"You could have just asked," she said, pretending to be annoyed even though I could tell how pleased she was.

He didn't deign to reply, so I turned my attention back to Galahad as he took his shot, landing the dagger just above Gawain's for a win. Gawain blew a raspberry in annoyance, and Galahad stared at his success with a smug expression…that is, until another dagger came whizzing out of nowhere, landing itself directly in the center of the hilt of Galahad's.

All heads turned to see Tristan, smirking slightly as he took a victory bite out of his apple. Jols laughed at him, shaking his head, while Galahad scowled angrily.

"Tristan, how do you do that?" Gawain asked.

"I aim for the middle," he answered, pointing towards the stool as if it were obvious. Gawain squinted at him, trying to discern whether or not he was being mocked.

"When I aim for the middle, I actually hit the middle," Galahad grumbled, sitting back on the table and dragging the woman with him to comfort himself.

I stood up, wrenching Tristan's dagger from Galahad's and grabbing the apple from his hand to cut a bite off of it. "Whether I should be proud or terrified that I am with a man who possesses such deadly accuracy is a question I find myself pondering over more and more often," I said, handing him back the fruit and the weapon.

"A little bit of both, I'd say," he responded casually, cutting a bite from the fruit from himself.

"Vanora will sing!" Bors announced suddenly, walking to the middle of the floor, dragging Vanora and their youngest behind him.

"No," she said, smiling a bit shyly, the first signs of timidity I'd ever seen from her.

"Sing! Sing!" the men began to chant.

"Sing about home!" Galahad requested.

"Don't drop the baby!" Gawain shouted, quickly followed by Naveen slapping him in the back of the head. In the background, by the bar, I noticed that Dagonet had finally appeared. He was leaning against a pillar near the bar, smiling at the sight of Bors and Vanora with a drink in his hand. I was glad to see him here.

Once everyone was quieted down, Vanora gave in, and started her song.

"_Land of bear and land of eagle, land that gave us birth and blessing, land that called us ever homewards. We will go home across the mountains. We will go home, we will go home. We will go home across the mountains. We will go home, we will go home. We will go home across the mountains._"

Galahad closed his eyes, completely losing himself in the lyrics that meant so much to him. Bors, likewise, was mouthing the words, so I had a feeling it was something she sung a lot. I twisted around to look at Tristan, and his eyes darted down to meet mine. Lifting the three middle fingers of my right hand, I rested them on his lips, and he leaned forward, kissing them gently.

"_Hear our singing, hear our longing. We will go home across the mountains. We will go home, we will go home. We will go home across the mountains._"

"Arthur!" Jols said when Vanora's song was done. I followed his line of sight, and saw the Commander, poised as if he'd been about to walk away from the tavern with a stony look on his face.

"Arthur!" Galahad called cheerfully.

All of the knights began to make their way over to him. I'd planned to stay behind to let them talk, but Tristan took my hand and brought me with him, standing between Dagonet and Lancelot.

"Arthur, you're not completely Roman yet, right?" Galahad asked jokingly as Bors let loose their traditional battle cry.

"Knights...brothers in arms," Arthur began, "your courage has been tested beyond all limits.

"Yes," Bors agreed.

"But I must ask you for one further trial," the Commander continued.

"Drink?" Bors asked, evoking a snigger from Galahad.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted," Arthur announced as if he were never interrupted. Lancelot tilted his head as if he thought Arthur had lost his mind. Galahad, Bors, and Gawain laughed like it was a joke, but the amusement slipped from their faces when Arthur started to dole out details.

"Above the Wall, far in the North, there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

"Let the Romans take care of their own," Bors growled.

"Above the Wall is Woad territory," Gawain said, almost completely lucid now. The news of this mission had sobered him up quite a bit.

"Our duty to Rome," Galahad slurred, "if it was ever a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you," Bors said, pointing at Arthur while his voice rose steadily with each word. "And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do of ours?!"

"Bors," Arthur said, the warning dripping from his tone, "these are our orders. We leave at first light, and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with honor."

"I AM A FREE MAN!" Bors roared, tears in his eyes. "I will choose my own fate!"

"Yeah, yeah," Tristan spoke up suddenly, sounding almost uninterested in the conversation. "We're all going to die some day. If it's a death from a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home."

In the back of my mind, it registered that Galahad was yelling at him, but I was so focused on his previous words that I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Was that really his attitude about this? It would be all too easy for him to die on this mission, and the most he could say about it was that "we're all going to die some day"? Dagonet once told me that Tristan hadn't cared much about his life before I came along, but now that I was here, he was more cautious. Was that not true? Was I not a good enough reason to care about his life? Perhaps this was all a bit more serious for me than it was for him.

Ignoring the rest of the conversation, I turned and walked to the back exit of the tavern, bypassing Vanora and pushing Naveen away when she tried to grab me to ask what was happening. Tears blurred my vision as I broke out into a run, not even caring where I was going as long as it wasn't here.

* * *

**Urgh, conflict conflict. But what is a story without it? We're getting closer and closer to the mission! I believe it starts in chapter seven, so we have one more until then.  
**

**So guess what I found out this week! King Arthur has a _book version_. Yes, you read that right! I ordered it online, and I've already started reading it. There's so much extra stuff in it! It tells you how Arthur came across all of the knights for the first time, and there's even a scene between Fulcinia and Guinevere in the dungeon. BACK STORY IS AN AUTHOR'S BEST FRIEND. I love this book.  
**

**So review, reivew, review until next week! :D Sending internet-fueled love to all of you!  
**


	6. Poison and Wine

**Hey guys! Chapter six hath arrived! I have no clue why I keep speaking old English in my A/N's lately. Sorry I didn't reply to all my reviews this time, I've been pretty busy.  
**

**Anyway, the song quote this time is "Poison and Wine" by the Civil Wars, and you should _definitely _give it a listen. Possibly one of the most beautiful songs ever.  
**

**Proceed.  
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_"I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back. The less I give, the more I get back. Oh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise. I don't have a choice, but I still choose you."-The Civil Wars_

*+*Elaine*+*

By their anger and the bits and pieces of their words I'd caught, I deduced that the bishop who'd come to discharge them had actually just given them another mission instead. All of the knights, even Arthur, had stormed off after the announcement and left behind a tension that was undeniable to everyone left behind at the bar. Vanora left after Bors. She looked more defeated than I'd ever seen her. Naveen stayed behind to work in Vanora's place, but we didn't talk much.

All I could think about was Lancelot. Perhaps that wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but now that I knew he was going to have to be put into more danger, the possibility of losing him before I ever even really had him was at the forefront of my mind. I consistently messed up orders, and the majority of the customers I served left with more ale on their fronts than in their bellies. I just had no concentration at all.

And right as I was considering closing the tavern for the night, Lancelot appeared like something out of a fairytale. It was obvious he was angry, maybe even flustered. He sat down at a stool at the bar, and demanded a drink. I poured it for him, hands shaking with nervousness, and then handed it over. He finished it in a few gulps, and slid the cup over for me to refill.

"Are you a Christian?" he asked me suddenly, surprising me so much I nearly dropped my pitcher.

"Er…n-n-no," I replied. "I don't really…see the point in organized religion."

I nearly fainted halfway through it, but I'd managed to get out an almost fully coherent response. Oh my, could this really be the moment I was waiting for?

"That's my point exactly!" he fumed. "Religion is about finding your own path to the gods, and Christianity not only tells you when to practice but which god to bow down to. It's madness!"

"Well, perhaps Christians need guidance when it comes to finding spirituality," I conceded. "It's harder for some than others."

I wasn't really sure he heard me because he muttered, "The man just won't see sense!"

"I don't mean to pry, but…is this about Arthur?"

He peered up at me from under his long eyelashes for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. "He thinks his God will save us when we're out there outnumbered and outflanked by Saxons and Woads," he sneered bitterly. "But he didn't help us when the Roman rebels set fire to Kay, Bedivere, and Gareth. He didn't give Lionell any reinforcements when he was surrounded by Woads on all sides. He didn't save Percival from the arrow that pierced his heart. If he could do nothing then, what could he do now?"

"Maybe you shouldn't worry yourself with belief in a god," I suggested. "Just remember that the knights are good, strong fighters, and you could have no better men to guard your back. Trust in Arthur's leadership. He doesn't know it, but he could do better leading a country than any of those Romans back in his home. If you think on that, I know you'll find all the faith you need."

Lancelot considered me curiously, and a small smile lit up his face. My heart nearly galloped right out of my chest. "I don't believe I recall your name," he said.

"I'm-"

"Lancelot, sweetheart, what are you doing out here all by your lonesome at this time of night?"

I cursed the red-haired whore to the deepest, fieriest corner of the Christian hell. Why did Medea have to come here now? She didn't even bother showing up to work in the first place, but she just had to appear and ruin my moment with him. This could be my only chance!

Lancelot smirked as she fit herself between his legs, beginning to play with one of his curls. "I was just asking myself the same thing," he drawled, all signs of the good side of him I'd just been talking to had disappeared. "How do you feel about remedying that?"

"I'd say that sounds wonderful," she purred.

Lancelot stood up, downing the rest of his drink, and nudging Medea towards the door. At the last moment, he turned around and took my hand from where it laid on the bar, kissing the back of it while staring directly into my eyes.

"Thank you, milady," he said, almost inaudibly.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing there with the impression of his lips still burned into the back of my hand. Sir Lancelot may have had half of my heart since the first time I laid eyes on him, but with that simple conversation, he'd managed to snatch up the rest of it. I would love him up until the very moment my heart stopped beating.

*+*Tristan*+*

Aderyn walked out of the tavern so fast I almost missed her exit. I wasn't quite sure what had caused her hasty retreat, but I knew something had upset her. It must have been the idea of me leaving on another mission. When Dagonet left to prepare for the trip, I followed him to the Keep wordlessly. We parted at the square, whence he head to the stables, and I entered the Keep. It was quiet at this time of night when everyone was either sleeping or at the tavern. Something about the atmosphere was unsettling though, and I had a feeling that that something was about to happen. Bad or good, I didn't know.

In our bedroom, I found Aderyn standing at the window, gazing out at the section of the Wall you could see from it. The way she turned her head told me she'd heard me arrive, so I just stood silently by the door, waiting for her to acknowledge me. It took several minutes, but she finally turned her head towards me and spoke up.

"You will go?"

It was phrased like a question, but it was rhetorical. I could tell just by the profile of her face that she knew the answer, so I said nothing. At my lack of words, she finally faced me completely, and I was able to see how red her eyes were. She'd been crying, though there was no trace of tears left on her cheeks.

"Where does this leave me then?"

"Here," I said.

"Waiting for you," she said, vocalizing the part of the answer that I hadn't. She chuckled humorlessly, and leaned back against the Wall. "Is this how my life is always going to be, Tristan? Spending my time constantly waiting for you to come home? What will happen when one of those times they bring me your body wrapped in a black cloth?"

"That won't happen," I replied lowly. "This is our final mission."

"Oh, please!" she snarled. "Lie to me all you like, but don't lie to yourself as well. Can you really picture yourself without a sword? Battle, death, blood…these are all parts of your life. And that doesn't bother me because I've had my fair share of all three. But what does bother me is your blatant apathy regarding your own life!"

"Apathy?"

"I believe your exact words were: 'We're all going to die some day. If it's a death from a Saxon that frightens you, stay home.' As if it didn't even matter! Like you have nothing to look forward to! Does your life really mean so little to you?"

A long pause stretched between us, one that was almost louder than her yelling. I hadn't thought much on those words when I said them, not finding some sort of deeper meaning in them like she was.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What do I want you to say?" she scoffed. "I want you to say that when you go out there and charge towards an enemy you do practice at least some self-preservation! That you aren't so selfish as to not care about yourself at all, that you know there are people who would be absolutely BROKEN if you died. I want you to say that I actually mean _some_thing to you besides someone to fuck when you get home!"

"Is that what you think?" My voice came out a lot louder than I intended, and without meaning to I'd crossed the room to stand in front of her, returning her glower. "You think you aren't the only thing motivating me when I'm so tired I don't think I can go on fighting anymore? Do you think it doesn't cross my mind what would happen to you if I died? Believe me, I didn't have nearly so many gray hairs before you came along."

Furious tears had welled up in her eyes, and she shouted, "THEN WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?!"

She began pushing at my chest and screeching curse words in the Woad language, condemning me to every foul death she could think of. I grabbed her arms, and pinned her between me and the Wall.

"I'm leaving because I have to," I told her as she struggled to break out of my hold. "If I just decide not to go, that Bishop can have me executed on the spot. And he will. He could care less about Arthur's feelings or the knights' or yours. Don't you think it will be worse if we try to run and they hunt us down and decapitate me right in front of you?"

"You'll have to fight Saxons," she whimpered.

"Would you rather me take a chance at dying on the mission, or face certain execution trying to evade it?"

She slumped against me, her head on my chest as she cried. I let go of her arms, and she wrapped them so tight around my middle I could barely breathe but I didn't tell her to loosen them. I held her against me, marveling at how tiny she seemed in my arms. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was young still; her soul was much older than her years.

We stayed like that until her sobs stopped, and then a little bit longer. I felt her press her lips to my collar bone before she pulled her head away to stare up at me. Even with her face stained with tears and her eyes bloodshot, she still was the most striking thing I'd ever seen. And before I could even think about it, the words just tumbled out of my mouth.

"I love you."

Aderyn's eyes widened a bit, and then she smiled, pulling me down to kiss her. She didn't allow it to last though, pulling away after only a few moments and disengaging herself from my arms to wash her face in the basin. I sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her. Sometime during that argument we'd crossed a line, one that I wasn't sure of. The air around us was thick with tension, and if someone had given me a chance to erase the last dozen or so minutes from history, I would have done it.

After drying her face, Aderyn just stood at the basin, her arms braced against the rim as she looked down at the water. If only I could hear what was going through her mind right then, I would have done anything to soothe her.

"I need to take a walk," she declared, reaching for her cloak. "Clear my head."

I didn't say anything as she left the room. Had it always felt so dismal when she left, or was it the first time she left behind such a void?

Her words had struck a chord with me. Before she came along, it wouldn't have been an outright lie to say that I didn't care much about my life. It just wasn't something that meant a lot to me. That fatalist attitude might have even resulted in my survival. I was willing to take more risks, put my neck on the line even more than the others. In my tribe in Sarmatia, it was considered the utmost honor to die fighting, basically a privilege. I hadn't realized just how much those ideals had been ingrained in me until I was presented with a reason to watch my own back. Aderyn came along, and suddenly there were reasons for everything: to live, to come home, to think about the future, to open up, to stay in Briton.

If I did die on this mission, the idea of what might become of her evoked an emotion I hadn't experienced in a long time: fear. The knights would still return to Sarmatia and Arthur to Rome, and she would be alone here when the Saxons came. I would not allow a repeat of what happened to her when her parents died. I couldn't even bear the thought of it.

So that was why I found myself determinedly banging on the door to Gawain's room so late at night. The blond knight answered the door looking harassed, holding his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He was only wearing his breeches, sloppily laced as if he'd done it in a hurry. He stepped out into the hallway, and as he pulled the door closed behind him, I caught sight of the obnoxious barmaid Aderyn was friends with, Naveen, lying across his bed asleep.

"You could just knock like a normal person. It's not necessary to wake the dead while you're at it," Gawain chided. "So what do you want?"

Not one to beat around the bush, I just came right out with it. "If I die on this mission, I ask that you take Aderyn with you to Sarmatia." The other man only gazed at me with his mouth agape, so I repeated the request, hoping it might sink in this time.

He nodded, and said, "Yes, I heard you. Just…why?"

"After this mission is done, it won't be long before the Saxons are at the Wall. If I'm dead, she will have no protection and nowhere to go. I need to know that if something were to happen to me, she'd be safe."

"That I understand. I meant why me."

"My first choice would be Arthur," I admitted, "but I won't have her going anywhere near Rome. And I trust your instincts. I know that if you give me your word right now that you will look after her, she will be safe. If not, I go to Dagonet."

He regarded me as if he wasn't quite sure of what his answer should be, almost like he was considering whether or not I was jesting. He must have realized how serious I was because he nodded, and said surely, "Of course I'll take her with me. She'll be protected."

I nodded in thanks, and then clapped him on the shoulder. When I went to go back to my room, he called my name.

I turned back and he muttered, "I trust that you would do the same." He nodded his head towards the door behind which the loud barmaid slept. Although I doubted I was as fond of the girl as Gawain was of Aderyn, I nodded in agreement. It was only fair.

"Good." With that settled, we parted ways to return to our rooms.

*+*Aderyn*+*

I hated lying to Tristan, even about something so small as taking a walk, but I knew he would have never allowed me to go if he knew what I was really doing. I stole through the Keep like a ghost, sticking to the shadowy alcoves lest any of the knights saw me and told Tristan where I was. After only a few minutes, I stopped in front of the guards that stood at their post in front of Arthur's office.

I lowered my hood, and said, "I request audience with the Commander."

"M'lord's busy," the portlier of the two grunted, not even looking at me.

"It's important."

"M'lord's busy."

"Really, I didn't want to have to play this card but either you can go in there and tell Arthur that Aderyn wishes to talk with him, or I can get past the two of you by force. Either way, I get what I want."

Unsurprisingly, the two much bigger men were highly amused, and the thinner chortled, "'Ow does a little one like you plan ta get past two full-grown men?"

"Quite simple, actually," I responded airily. "You see, from the few seconds I've been standing here, I already have a strategy. You," I pointed to the fat man, "have been drinking. I can smell it from here. So most likely, you won't have as much balance as usual. A nice kick to the side of the knees will incapacitate you long enough for me to take your sword and kick you in the head. I would be armed, and you would be knocked out. You, on the other hand," I turned my attention to the thinner man, "have some cracked ribs. I was there the other night when you got in the fight at the tavern, and I'm friends with the healer's apprentice who bandaged you up. So one good punch would have you gasping for breath, maybe even breaking the ribs the rest of the way. But since you're not as inebriated as your fellow, you might see that coming. So first I'd have to stab you in the arm, with the sword I've acquired, which you wouldn't see coming because you're partially blind in your left eye. Once you're down, bleeding and trying to get past the pain in your ribs, I can just step over you to speak to Arthur." I smiled at their thunderstruck expressions. "So how would you like to play this? I'm not really partial to either one."

They glanced at each other for a moment, and then the thin one rapped his knuckles on the door, leaning his head in to tell Arthur I was there. He withdrew his head, and said, "You may enter."

"Thank you, gentlemen."

Arthur's office was not at all what I expected: simple, just a desk against one wall, stacked with papers, and the walls lined with bookshelves that were filled to the breaking point with books. Several lanterns had flames dancing at their heads, illuminating the room with an orange glow. Arthur sat behind the desk, and the smile he gave me was a bit strained.

"Aderyn, how can I help you?" he questioned, leaning back slightly.

I drew myself up to my full height, and kept my face entirely stony as I said, "I wish to join you on your mission tomorrow."

I don't think Arthur could have looked more shocked if Jesus Christ himself had walked in behind me and asked him how he felt about giving all of Vanora's children a knighthood. His mouth actually dropped open. I would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Aderyn, I…," he started, then paused, folding his hands together on top of his desk. "I do not know if that's possible."

"Why not? Jols will go with you, and he is not a knight."

"That isn't the problem, I assure you," he sighed. "I don't have to tell you that it's more dangerous to be a woman in combat than it is a man. If we were to come upon the Saxons and be defeated…it would bode even worse for you than it would us."

"I've come across Saxons before, and they weren't the first barbarians I've had a close encounter with." I debated whether or not to continue, but I needed something more to sway my case, so I went on, "My family was murdered by a tribe when I was only ten winters old. My parents and my two siblings. I would have joined them in the afterlife if Drenna had not happened to have been walking by that day. I know what soldiers do to women after battle from firsthand experience. I'm not afraid."

"It is almost certain we will come across Woads," he pointed out. "Would you be able to kill them if they attacked us?"

"Without question," I answered immediately. "I was taught by a Woad. I know their fighting style, where their settlements are…even their language. I could be an advantage for you."

He groaned, and ran his hands down his face. "I just don't know. This goes against all of my better judgement…"

"Please, Arthur," I found myself begging. "I can't bear to watch Tristan go knowing I can do nothing to protect him. I _have _to go, or I fear I might just lose my mind while he's gone. I need to do something. I can't just sit around here! And if it's my skill you're concerned about, you yourself said that I'm a good fighter, that you wouldn't want to be matched against me! You know I'm good with a sword, and I can use a bow too. I've had lessons from Drenna and Tristan, two people you must admit could easily be the best combatants Briton has seen in years. I can do this."

"Does Tristan know you are here?"

"Well…no," I confessed. "Because I know he would have pitched a fit if he knew what I was planning."

"How do you expect me to take you on when you know Tristan would never allow it?" he queried.

I bristled at his words. "Make no mistake, Tristan is not my master. I can do as I please, his opinion be damned. I'm doing this for him, I could care less if he's vexed by my decision."

Arthur seemed genuinely troubled by my request and completely torn in his answer. I waited patiently and silently, hoping beyond all hope that he could see that what I was asking was not a monumental request. I was simply asking to tag along, certainly not for any sort of protection while we were out there. I could do that on my own.

"Alright," he grumbled. "Fine. I'll take you on." I smiled, but he shook his head. "This isn't something to be happy about. I'm not even thrilled over this. I have a few conditions."

"Anything," I promised, quickly wiping my smile away.

"You are under _my command_. When I tell you to do something, you do it immediately. Disobeying orders will not be something I'll tolerate when we're in such dangerous territory."

"Of course."

"Stay with the group unless specifically ordered to do otherwise. Straying from formation could be the difference between life and death."

"Fine."

"And under no circumstances are you to engage anyone in battle unless they initiate the fight first or one of the others have been threatened."

"Absolutely," I affirmed. "So does this mean I'm going?"

"Against every sane thought in my head, yes. You'll need to be at the stables before sunrise to prepare. Oh, and you'll be needing armor."

I shook my head. "No, I don't wear armor. I was taught like a Woad. It will only hinder me."

"Fine," he relinquished.

"Thank you, Arthur."

"Don't thank me, really," he said tiredly. "You're dismissed."

I left the room to head back to my own, knowing that the hardest part was just about to begin: telling Tristan what I'd done.

I was hoping he'd be asleep when I returned, but he was still awake, feeding his hawk at the table. He looked up at me when I entered, and the bird fled through the window like she knew that this was about to get ugly. The silence stretched into minutes as we both just stood there, unable to make words surface. I knew I would have to speak first, so I gave up the fight.

"I've just been to see Arthur."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Why?"

"I had to ask him something," I began slowly, cautiously. "I requested to join you on the mission tomorrow."

The visible change in Tristan was absolutely frightening. His shoulders hunched, his fists clenched, his jaw set, and his eyes flashed dangerously. It was like staring at a cornered cat who knew it was going to have to fight its way out.

"Please tell me he has enough sense to refuse you that."

I shook my head slowly. "He's taken me on."

He stood up, and kicked his chair backwards, cursing in Sarmatian. I just stood in the doorway as he began to pace, occasionally pausing to throw something. I never would have thought Tristan the type to throw tantrums, but there was no other word for what he was doing now.

After a few long minutes, he stopped pacing and rounded on me. "Why?" he snarled lowly. "Why would you want to do something like this?"

"I am tired of sitting back and doing nothing while you fight a war."

"It's not doing nothing. It's called keeping yourself alive."

"Tristan, I can fight, and I'm good at it. What is the point in wasting a good soldier when you need all the help you can get out there?"

He kicked over the other chair. "You're not wasting anything. You could use them as protection if you were attacked."

"How often am I attacked?!"

He let out a nonsensical growl of anger, and punched the stone wall. I knew it must have been painful, but he didn't even wince.

"Stop being childish!" I yelled. "I'm going, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

He stared at me from across the room, his entire frame shaking with rage and blood dripping down onto the floor from his split knuckles. It was the first time he'd ever truly terrified me.

"You don't know what you've done," he growled.

Without saying another word, he stomped past me, straight out the door. He slammed it behind him, and left me there to wonder if I'd truly done the right thing.

* * *

**I don't know why, but I really like this chapter. There are so many moments I love, like the Elaine/Lancelot and Gawain/Naveen and the bromancyness from Gawain and Tristan, haha.**

**So, as you know, I truly love reviews. If you want to make my day, please do click the button below to tell me what you think. :D  
**


	7. Walk Through Hell

**Hello everyone! This is going up now because I'm going to be in the car most of the day tomorrow, and I hate updating on my phone. So here you go! Technically it's only a half hour early, but whatever, be happy, lol.  
**

_"I'd walk through hell for you. Let it burn right through my shoes. These soles are useless without you. Through hell for you. Let the torturing ensue. My soul is useless without you."-Say Anything  
_

*+*Aderyn*+*

Tristan didn't come back to our room for hours. I stayed awake all that time, staring out the window and wondering if I might have somehow irreversibly damaged what we had. When he finally did return, I pretended to be asleep, not ready to face the mess I'd made. He just climbed into bed, keeping as close to the edge as he could. The distance he kept between us was what drove the nail into the proverbial coffin, and tears flooded my eyes. I kept my back to him, not wanting him to see me break down.

I don't know at what point I finally went to sleep, but I woke up what couldn't have been three hours later, my head feeling like it was made of lead. I stood up, careful not to jostle Tristan awake, and began to make preparations for the journey. I packed my warmest breeches and tunics, knowing the temperature would drop considerably at night, especially in the North. After sliding on my first pair of pants in months, the confidence I'd lost after my fight with Tristan returned. I was finally going back into my element.

Tristan awoke while I was checking my arrows. I saw him roll over out of the corner of my eye, but didn't even look at him. Instead, I stood up, buckled my sword to my waist, and left the room. It wasn't yet time for us to leave, but I wanted to say goodbye to Desiderius before I left.

The fort was silent as the grave at this time of morning, before everyone was awake and moving about. Even though it was the slightest bit unsettling, the solidarity aspect of it was calming at the same time. I pulled my forest green cloak around me more tightly, trying to ward off the cold. Frost crunched under my boots as I walked, so I wouldn't have been surprised if it snowed later on.

Upon entering the infirmary, I found Severina bent over a pot of boiling water, soaking bandages. She looked up at me, and made a noise of exasperation. "What have you managed to do to yourself at this time of the morning then?! If this is about some half-breed baby that scout has planted in your belly then you take that business to a midwife, not me! I'll have no part in birthing that man's beastly spawn!"

"No babies, I promise," I deadpanned, doing my best not to let her irritate me. "I would like to speak with Desiderius." She eyed me suspiciously for a few seconds so I added, "Please."

"He's in the back, mixing me a poultice," she answered reluctantly. "Don't keep him too long, he has tasks to do!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," I assured her, striding to the back room.

Desiderius was there, counting out some dark purple flower petals with a frown of deep concentration marring his brow. For someone my age, he always seemed a lot older, like the soul of an elderly man was trapped in his body. Sensing me, he suddenly looked up, beaming when he recognized me.

"Aderyn! What are you doing here at this hour?" He quirked an eyebrow. "And wearing breeches? How big of a fit did my mother throw?"

"Didn't mention it at all, actually," I replied with a wry smile. "She was too busy telling me not to bring any half-breed pregnancies Tristan might have caused to her infirmary."

His face fell. "You're not…?"

"Oh no," I replied quickly, shaking my head.

"Thank god," he mumbled, and then his cheeks flushed and he looked away from me. "So, uhh…what did you need?"

"I came to tell you goodbye," I told him.

The expression of anxiety that took over his face wasn't the reaction I expected. I thought he might be a little upset, but nothing so dramatic as the look he was giving me now.

"You're not leaving for Sarmatia already, are you?" he gasped.

"No. Bishop Germanius gave the knights a final mission, and I'm going with them. We're leaving today to go to the far north, to rescue a Roman family from Saxons."

"Saxons?!" he yelled. "The last time you got mixed up with them, you spent almost a month here!"

"I remember," I retorted. "But I must go. The knights will need all the help they can get out there."

Desiderius suddenly lunged towards me, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Aderyn, no! If you go out there, you'll DIE! You know just as well as I that that's a suicide mission!" He shook me slightly, perhaps in an attempt to rattle some sense into me, making my head jerk back and forth.

"You don't understand!" I argued, prying his fingers from my arms. "How can I sit back here and do nothing while I know the knights are in such terrible danger? I simply can't, Desiderius."

"No, you could if you wanted to," he countered. "You just refuse to see reason. Because of _Tristan_." He said his name like it was some sort of disease. "Is it really better to die with him than to survive on your own?"

"You've never been in love before, have you?"

His face melted from scared and angry to devastated. "Actually, I have," he said, in almost a whisper, eyes locked onto mine.

"And how would you feel if that person went off to battle and then you never saw them alive again?"

"I expect I'll find out soon," he mumbled.

I wasn't sure I heard him right, so I asked, "What?"

"Nothing, just…nothing." He looked away from me, running his hands through his hair and breathing in a shaky breath. "I hate this."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you sure there's not something I can do to change your mind?"

"Nothing at all."

"Then I suppose I'll just have to say goodbye," he conceded. "And tell you that if you don't come back alive, I will never forgive you."

I laughed, and walked over to hug him. He squeezed me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn't complain. I would miss Desiderius while I was away, him and all his boyish charm. Stepping out of the hug, Desiderius turned away quickly, and I heard him sniff.

"Are you alright?" I asked worriedly.

"Fine, fine," he answered, waving his hand flippantly. "It's just…I'll miss you. So come home safe."

"My dear friend, aren't I always safe?" I questioned teasingly.

"Good lord, you're going to come back missing limbs, aren't you?" he joked, turning back around now that he'd gained his composure.

I giggled, shoving him gently. "Be quiet! If I still have all of them now, there's a good chance I'll be keeping them!"

"Yeah, yeah. You better get going. Wouldn't want Arthur to leave without you." He grinned suddenly, and grabbed my wrist. "On second thought, stay and chat. It's cold out, don't you think? I could make some tea."

"Nice try," I grinned. "But I really should be going."

"Truly then, be careful," he insisted, adopting a serious expression.

"I will," I promised. "Goodbye, Desiderius."

"Goodbye, Aderyn."

Outside, the first beams of sunlight were beginning to streak across the sky, turning the expanse of dark blue to burning orange and pink and blood red. It was beautiful, but I had no time to marvel at it. I had to get back to my room and gather my things and then get to the stables to get Egryn ready for the long ride ahead.

There were more signs of movement in the city now, and I could even see Vanora at the bar in the tavern, preparing everything for the morning. I would have stopped to talk to her, but I knew I would have my chance to say goodbye when she came to see Bors off.

I was surprised to find Tristan still in our room when I got there. He had his sword and bow thrown on the bed, and was pulling on a tunic when I walked in. I caught sight of his split knuckles from punching the wall, and guilt made my stomach clench. Retrieving some bandages from the top drawer of the dresser, I dipped them in the warm water from the basin, and held it out in front of him.

"May I?" I asked, more timid than I had been with him since the early days at my cottage.

He didn't protest, so I took his hand in mine lightly, and cleaned the cuts before wrapping a dry bandage around them so they wouldn't get infected. As I turned away to get rid of the blood-soaked cloth, Tristan suddenly grabbed my bicep so tightly that I let out a yelp of pain, and whipped me around to face him. When I tried to wrestle out of his grip, he grabbed my chin hard enough it could have left bruises, forcing me to look up at him.

"Don't even think about getting killed while we're out there," he growled. "If you come back with so much as a scratch…"

His voice trailed off, and he seemed to lose the ability to finish the thought. So, as he was best at, he used actions to convey what he was thinking. He pushed his lips to mine in a violent, clashing kiss that was more painful than anything. Refusing to be cowed, I kissed back just as rough, digging my fingernails into his neck and scratching while he continued to tighten his hold on my arm and face. It was all teeth and tongue and then blood added to the mix when I bit the inside of his lip.

I pushed him away, and we stood across from each other, breathing hard. My tongue darted out to clean his blood from my bottom lip, and his eyes darkened as they followed that movement with a sort of lust I'd never seen from him before. My insides were burning. I wanted more of whatever it was that had just occurred, but we had no time. So I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my heart to stop racing, and then went to get his armor from the stand.

After I handed it to him, he pulled it on without a word, and I lifted up his arms so I could lace it at the sides myself, then pulled his cloak around his shoulders and fastened that as well. Ignoring the way he kept trying to catch my eye, I kissed the scratches I'd made on his neck, and then wiped away the beads of blood that were dotting up on some of them.

"Come on, we've got to get to the stables," I reminded him, shouldering my bow and quiver and grabbing my pack from the ground by the door. He reluctantly did the same, and we left the Keep side by side.

Galahad and Dagonet were the only ones already there. Dagonet was saddling his horse, Pagos, and the younger knight was tightening his greaves with a deep frown plastered on his face. Tristan and I went straight to our horses and began to get them ready. Galahad appeared at my stall door when I was strapping Egryn's bridle on, looking confused.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're coming with us, but that can't be true."

"It can, actually."

His mouth dropped open. "You're not serious! Dagonet!" He looked at the other knight and pointed at me. "She's says she's coming with us!"

His brow creased concernedly as he asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Of course I am!"

"This is the most moronic thing I've ever heard," Galahad exclaimed.

Bors walked in then with Lancelot at his side, toting his saddlebags over one shoulder. "What's moronic?"

"Aderyn's going with us," Dagonet answered.

"You do realize how dangerous this is, right, Tristan?" Lancelot asked his fellow knight.

I snarled, grabbing a dagger from my saddlebags and hurling it towards Lancelot. He ducked, and it landed in the wood right where his head had been a moment ago. He stood back up straight with his eyes widened to their full capacity.

"All of you keep your mouths SHUT!" I yelled, pointing at them all in turn. "I'm not a little girl, alright?! I'm a full grown woman, and I can make my own damn decisions! Stop coddling me like I'm some delicate little flower!"

There was at least a full minute of bewildered silence, in which I seethed and the knights just gawked at me. Bors was the one to break the tension, laughing. He wrenched my knife from the stable wall, and walked over to hand it to me.

"After a throw like that, I'm not worried about you at all, love," he told me. I smiled at him hesitantly as I took my blade back, returning it to its spot in my bag. After that, all of them got back to their own business and didn't disturb me. Tristan, who'd remained undaunted by the entire display, led Isolde out of her stall and tied her to a post before he began to, yet again, sharpen his sword.

When Gawain arrived not five minutes later, he was smiling like this was the best day of his life. "Had a good night?" Bors teased him.

"Very good indeed," the blond agreed. I wondered what had him so cheery, but before I could ask, he noticed me standing there and said, "What are you doing, Aderyn?"

"She's coming with us," Lancelot informed him.

"And you should keep your mouth shut because she's a full grown woman and she can do as she pleases, and if you disagree, she'll throw a knife at your head," Galahad added.

"Well…alright then," Gawain gave up with shrug.

Once Egryn was saddled and bridled with my bags tied to his back, I buckled my sword and quiver to the saddle, and lead Egryn out to stand next to Isolde. He was beginning to get excited, prancing around and kicking up dirt.

"Stop it!" I hissed. "Try and look dignified!" He didn't listen, just started to let out deafening neighs of joy from being out of his stall. "You're an embarrassment!"

Tristan came to stand next to me, offering part of an apple to my overexcited horse. He immediately quieted down, distracted with the task of eating. Tristan offered me a section of the fruit too, and I took it gratefully, sitting down on a bale of hay next to Gawain to eat it.

Galahad was back in one of his I-hate-the-world-and-everything-in-it moods, and had climbed into the saddle and begun circling around the open area of the stables agitatedly. Arthur walked in while he was in the middle of that exercise, and his mood darkened even further. The Commander himself looked tired and worn, much older than his age. As he began to walk up the middle of the stables, Galahad galloped around him in circles in an effort to get a reaction out of him, but the older man didn't rise to the bait.

After Arthur's arrival, no one spoke anymore. I didn't really see the point in holding a grudge against him for something that was entirely the Bishop's fault, but the knights clearly weren't in the mood to listen to that sort of reason. I remained silent with the rest of them, cleaning the set of daggers I'd brought with me.

The Bishop and some of his guard arrived as Jols and Arthur were plotting out our route, and immediately all of the knights assumed offensive, threatening demeanors. Bors pulled out his sword and held it aloft, Gawain grabbed one of the daggers from my lap and began to twirl it between his fingers, and Dagonet was even bold enough to bump into the man as he walked by.

Galahad dismounted, and came over to stand near Gawain, Bors, and I. When the Bishop got close to us, he glared menacingly at him, cracking his jaw. I half expected him to throw a punch, but fortunately, he was smarter than that. Although he obviously really wanted to. If given a chance, I would have even given him a beating so I could only imagine how these men felt.

Germanius's eyes landed on me, adopting an aura of contempt, and Tristan not-so-subtly drifted over to my side, running his thumb along the flat plane of his sword blade. The Bishop eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, and then turned to Arthur.

"To represent the Holy Court, my trusted secretary Horton…Horton!" The manservant appeared, looking down his nose haughtily, "will accompany you."

Galahad made a noise of protest, but was stopped from letting out a full complaint by Dagonet, who put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"Jols, find him a horse," Arthur deadpanned. Gawain slammed my dagger into the wooden surface between our legs, giving the half-Roman a disbelieving look. The stablemaster looked at Arthur like he might question his authority for the first time in his life, but then seemed to think better of it.

"This way," he said to Horton, directing him towards the other side of the room.

"Godspeed as you fulfill your duty to Rome," Germanius continued with a smile.

"My duty is also to my men," Arthur reminded him.

"Then get them home." Germanius turned to leave, but then stopped and looked back at the Commander over his shoulder. "Bringing a woman with you, and a Woad no less…you think it wise? These people's allegiances change so swiftly."

I wrenched the dagger from the wood and stood up, preparing to let my outrage take me where it would, but Arthur interrupted what was sure to be a lengthy tirade when he announced, "Aderyn is a talented warrior and a valuable part of this operation. I have complete faith in her abilities and her fidelity."

His words made me flush with pleasant surprise, and I was a lot less willing to do something like attack a bishop against his command after he was so generous with my praises. The Bishop gave me one more distrustful look before he exited, and when I sat down, I flashed Arthur a smile of thanks.

Final preparations were made, and the men were completely armored and ready to go. At the last minute, Naveen, Vanora, and Elaine all bustled into the stables. Vanora, carting Gilly and her newest babe, went to Bors and began to henpeck him about the importance of keeping wounds clean. I'd thought Naveen was here for me, but was proven wrong when she jogged right past me and vaulted herself into Gawain's arms. He caught her, holding her up while she began to shower his face with kisses.

"Woman, I need to breathe!" the blond protested, smiling nonetheless.

"When did _that_ happen?" I asked Elaine.

"Last night," she responded. "But by the looks of it, you'd think they've been running around with each other for ages."

"Well, they sort of have," I reminded her. "They just didn't realize what they were doing."

"That may just be true." She surveyed my attire, and then sighed tiredly. "I'm guessing by your apparel that Desiderius wasn't joking when he told us you were leaving."

"He told you?"

She nodded. "He came running into the tavern a few minutes ago, ranting about how you need a man that keeps you more grounded instead of fueling your crazy ambitions."

"Should I be offended?"

"No, I don't think so. He's just so insanely jealous of Tristan that he would say anything to make him look bad."

"Jealous of Tristan?" I asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Addi?" she scoffed.

Vanora swooped down us, bumping Elaine out of the way and beginning to adjust my cloak fastenings and make sure I had on warm enough clothes. "Nora, I'm fine," I grumbled, trying to swat her away. "Really, I know how to dress myself."

"Oh, I'm just so worried," she groused, tugging my belt tighter. "This is so dangerous! And you and Bors and the men…I am losing myself today!" She suddenly rounded on Bors, slapping him in the chest to get his attention.

"Gods, Nora! What is it?"

"You make sure she comes home in one piece, do you hear me?" she demanded.

"She don't need anyone to babysit her," he protested, earning himself another slap. "Ow!"

"Do you hear me?!" the redhead repeated, glowering at him.

"Alright, alright! I swear on my bloody life that she'll be good as new when we get back. Satisfied?"

"Good."

Naveen appeared then, tears in her eyes as she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. Instead of complaining, I hugged her back just as tight.

"You bring yourself back to me, okay?" she said quietly. "You can get a little banged up, if you like, but just be alive when you ride back through those gates."

I smiled. "I promise. And then we can start planning your wedding." She let me out of her hold, pinching me under the arm viciously. "Ouch!"

"You deserved it," she said feebly, wiping her tears away. "Be careful, you pain in my ass."

"Time to head out," Arthur declared, already atop his horse.

I smiled at the three women one last time before climbing into the saddle. Egryn was practically trembling at this point, and it was all I could do to keep him from rocketing out of the stables before anyone else. The nervousness began to settle in now, knowing that I was about to embark on a journey the likes of which I'd never been on before. The only long ride I'd ever been on, I'd been knocked out for the majority of. I looked over at Tristan, and found that the reminder that I was doing this for him was all the morale I needed.

*+*Elaine*+*

They were truly leaving now. All of them were on their horses, making the last adjustments to their saddlebags and weapons. Arthur was at the head of the group, waiting for the doors to be opened to let them out. This was my last chance. If I was going to do something, I needed to do it _now_. Gathering all the courage I possessed, I strode up to Lancelot's horse.

"Lancelot," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He looked down a bit apprehensively, waiting for me to say what was on my mind. I took the amulet I always wore and pulled it over my head, holding it out to him. It was a small, triangular piece with a round purple gemstone in the center and Celtic knots that bordered the rim. "This was my mother's and her mother's before her and her mother's before her. She always used to tell me that it would keep me safe when I most needed it. I want you to take it with you, for luck."

"Are you sure?" he inquired warily.

"I've never been more certain in my life."

He eyed me for a moment more, and then took the pendant. He wound the chord around the hilt of one of his swords, tying it securely. The gem sparkled prettily as it hung there. He smiled as the doors to the stables opened, and told me, "I'll bring it to you when we return, milady."

"I look forward to the day," I replied, blushing.

He winked at me, and then rode out behind Arthur. The other knights and Aderyn all blazed by me on horseback, but I kept my eyes on Lancelot, sure that when he came back, we would finally be together as we were meant to.

* * *

**And there you have it! A bit of a filler, but it was in the movie so I felt like I had to include it.**

**So I was really happy with the reviews I got last time. Keep it up, guys, I love getting them! So I hope you're all well, and I can't wait to hear from everyone!  
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	8. Swing Life Away

**Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, I really appreciate your feedback.**

**Currently, I'm suffering through the break between summer TV shows and fall TV shows. Like I really just want American Horror Story and How I Met Your Mother and Modern Family and Hannibal and The Big Bang Theory and I can't wait for them to start already! Gah!  
**

**Enjoy this chapter while I weep with frustration.  
**

_"Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck? Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost? I'll show you mine if you show me yours first. Let's compare scars. I'll tell you whose is worse. Let's unwrite these pages, and replace them with our own words. If love is a labor, I'll slave 'til the end. I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand."-Rise Against_

*+*Aderyn*+*

As we galloped out of the city, people stopped to watch us go, gawking at us as if we were some sort of holy crusade that would save them from impending doom. It was strange to see just how reverent they were as they stepped out of our path. I even saw some of them cross themselves in the way that Christians did, in some sort of sign to their god. As we came to the gate, it creaked open noisily, and the guards on top saluted us as we rode away.

Egryn was desperate to stretch his legs after spending so much time cooped up in his stall so I had to keep him reined in so he wouldn't charge ahead of Arthur. I stayed back, riding next to Tristan, behind Dagonet and Lancelot. Gawain and Galahad were behind us, Jols behind them, and Horton the manservant was bringing up the rear. I assumed Jols must have given him a slower horse, and with good reason. When I looked back at the man, he was having trouble holding on at such a rough pace.

We flew over the open stretch of field that surrounded Hadrian's Wall, towards the hills over the other side of which we would find the forest. It was the same place I lived in not long ago, but we were going too far east to actually run by it. I wouldn't have known what to do if we did anyway.

Once we'd crossed the hills, and were almost into the forest, Arthur yelled, "Tristan!"

Without any further commands, Tristan picked up speed until Isolde's legs were merely a blur beneath her, riding on to scout ahead. To keep the ranks, Bors gained speed to ride next to me. It was a seamless transition that happened within seconds. They were so attuned to one another after all these years, knew their positions and duties. I started to feel like I might have been butting into something private. Now that I thought about it, Dagonet and Tristan normally rode next to each other, and Bors next to Lancelot. They'd rearranged their entire formation around me. Now I was fairly certain I didn't belong here.

But we broke through the cover of trees, and it was too late now. I'd made my choice, and I had to stick with it. I would keep my uncertainty checked so the knights wouldn't see it and mistake it for fear.

For hours we rode full out, not slowing our pace even a little. The sky darkened over head, and when Tristan rode back to us, he was soaking wet.

"Rain!" I heard him call to Arthur. "About ten minutes ahead!"

Sure enough, at exactly ten minutes almost to the second, it began to downpour. I pulled my hood over my head in an effort to keep myself warm, but it was no use. I was drenched to the bone within minutes. Add that to the already cold temperatures, and my limbs began to go numb. Tristan resumed formation next to me, and Bors slowed up enough to get behind us.

Arthur drove us forward still, through the mud and flooded paths. It was hard to hear anything over the rain pounding down and the splatter of hooves smacking into puddles, but I kept my eyes peeled. We were heading into Drenna's old tribe's territory, which could only mean formidable danger. As if it weren't bad enough that Lancelot had been the hand to strike the blow that killed her, but they blamed me for the incident overall, since the knights wouldn't have even been there if it weren't for me keeping Tristan a secret. If they came upon us, I doubt they would even give anyone a chance to fight back before they struck us down.

When the rain began to slow up, so did Arthur. He stopped a little ways off the dirt path, next to a small stream, and dismounted. "Five minutes, make it count," he told us.

It was all I could do not to moan with relief. Three hours of riding was just around two and three-quarters more than the longest I'd ever done in my life. I slid from the saddle, my knees nearly buckling under me.

Not now, Aderyn. You've got to stay strong. Pretend it's not bothering you. Don't let them see you as some weak little princess.

I grit my teeth, and went about gathering a waterskin from my bag. I drank as much as I could hold, and then refilled it at the stream. As I went to kneel down, my legs buckled, and I landed a bit harder than I intended to. I tried to play it off like it was something I'd meant to do, but Galahad, who was next to me, wasn't fooled.

"Whenever we take breaks, stay on your feet," he advised quietly. "And give the horse a little bit of leeway. There's a good chance he'll stay with the group, you don't need to lock up on him so much."

"Thanks," I mumbled, massaging my knuckles into my inner thighs to try and get some feeling back into them. After refilling my skin, I went back to my saddle and grabbed my sword from the sheath. The blade used to be Drenna's, but she gave it to me when I turned seventeen. It was a wicked thing, with a shockingly thin, curvy blade. The grip was made of brown leather with a golden pommel and guard. The device fit me like a glove, an extension to my limb.

I walked deeper into the forest, just outside of the view of the knights, in order to relieve myself. I kept my sword ready, prepared to strike at anytime if I needed to. As I was retying my breeches, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I gripped my sword tighter, but pretended not to notice the figure sitting high up in a tree, just inside of the view of my peripherals. Pretending to peer around the tree at the knights, I glanced up in the branches of a tree to my left, and sure enough, a Woad woman sat there. She must not have noticed me since I wasn't directly in her line of sight, and was instead focused on the knights. She had no weapons in her hands, or even on her at all from what I could see. Since there was no immediate threat, I took a leisurely pace back to the group just in case there were more of them watching me.

They were preparing to leave when I returned, so I walked in between Isolde and Egryn, where Tristan was standing, tying his quiver to the saddle tighter. I pretended to do the same for mine, but whispered, "We're being watched."

He didn't flinch, or even falter in his knots. "Where?"

"The oak tree covered in poison ivy to your left. She's not armed."

I swung up into the saddle, and Tristan followed suit. "Put your hood up," he commanded lowly. I instantly did as he said.

Arthur urged his horse forward, and Tristan nodded his head to me as he broke rank to ride at the front of the group, telling me silently to follow him.

He started around to Arthur's right while I stayed to his, staring around openly from beneath my hood. It must have been some sort of unspoken acknowledgement of danger to break formation, because all of the men began to grow closer together, becoming a tight circle instead of a line.

We maintained a slow speed like that for a long time, could even have been over an hour. Every once in awhile I would see a figure crouched in a tree or a flash of blue darting between bushes, but I didn't note an immediate threat until I saw an entire line of lithe figures moving around towards our back from the right. I kicked Tristan's foot, and he followed my line of sight.

"Woads," he told Arthur. "They're tracking us."

"Where?" the Commander asked.

"Everywhere," I answered, noticing more of them stationed on our left.

We were surrounded. I heard a distinct clink, like metal hitting metal, and wished I could draw my bow without distracting attention.

Suddenly vines rose up from the ground ahead, creating a net-like trap in front of us. Arthur had to reel back before he ran into it. The whizz of arrows being let loose from their bows began to sound from everywhere. But they weren't aiming for us, they were hitting the trees. The Woads in the branches had tied ropes to the tales of the weapons, and were beginning to block us off with their clever trap. The horses bucked wildly in fear, and Egryn nearly unseated me.

Arthur found a small area we could get through, and we all filed through it one by one, gaining speed as we went. It was dark beneath the cover of trees, and the farthest I could see ahead of me was Dagonet's back and not even an inch more.

I heard arrows again, and had to yank on the reins when Dagonet came to an abrupt halt. Then the knights in front of me were turning around, roaring that we needed to turn around. I wheeled Egryn as fast as I could, joining the chorus of yells.

"Turn back! They've blocked it off!"

We started back the way we'd come, turning off a different way this time. Adrenaline took over, leaving no room for fear or surprise. It was just the instinct for flight, telling me to get out of here as fast as I could. We paused in a small area that had a few different paths we could go on. This time when the arrows were fired, it was no longer just to trap us. Dagonet ducked out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit, and one flew so close to Gawain that it blew his hair back.

We took the southwest trail, Galahad in front this time. Woads ran beside us on foot, jeering and yelling commands to one another. I heard one of them scream something about releasing the fence, and immediately came to a halt.

"GALAHAD, STOP!" I shrieked. He did so just in time to avoid the spiked pieces of wood jutting up from the ground that would have impaled both him and his horse.

They were shooting at us again, and in the dim light it was hard to even tell who was who. Egryn was spinning around in confused circles, unknowingly putting me in more danger because I couldn't see if there were arrows coming at me or not. One caught my cloak, ripping a neat hole in the fabric by my elbow, and another zipped by my nose. I yanked on the reins, trying to regain control.

"This way!" Arthur bellowed, leading us off any sort of path to sprint through the foliage. My heart was beating so loud it was almost all I could hear. The cold and the pain in my legs was forgotten. I wondered if it was possible our fate was to die here, before we even got to the most dangerous part of the mission.

A loud series of battle cries greeted us at the next bend of trees, and a group of Woads appeared there, jabbing at Arthur with spears and swords. "Back!" Bors ordered.

We whipped around again, running a different way with the enemy hot on our heels. We were forced to stop yet again, ending up right where we began at the net of vines. Instead of trying to run again, Arthur pulled out Excalibur. The others pulled out weapons too, and I took it that was the command he'd spoken of in his office last night. I grabbed my bow and nocked an arrow, directing it towards the man on the other side of the vine net. He was aiming for Arthur with his own arrow, but it seemed like all the others were too. We were blocked in by Woads on all sides. It would be impossible to escape this unscathed, let alone alive.

"Aderyn!" Arthur said urgently from my left. "Talk to them!"

I pulled down my hood to reveal my identity, and yelled, "Fi am eich bobl! Nid ydym yn dod i wneud rhyfel! Gadewch i ni basio, ac ni fyddwn yn trafferthu chi ymhellach!"

The man whom I was aiming at, the one with the sun tattooed on his forehead, eyed me up and down, snarling menacingly. I stared him down, willing him silently to believe me.

However, it didn't matter whether or not he believed me, because a horn blew then. Surprise flickered in the man's eyes, but he didn't move from his offensive position.

"What are you waiting for?!" Gawain called.

The horn blew again, and I willed Egryn to take a few steps toward the man, who leaned away cautiously. "Rydych yn gwybod beth mae'n ei olygu," I goaded him. "Ydych chi'n fodlon i anufuddhau eich arweinydd?"

He glared at me for another long moment, and then let his bow go slack, his eyes still burning with a desperation to take us down. The others began to retreat, but he backed up slowly, the last to fade into the darkness.

They disappeared just as fast as they had come, like they were a part of the forest. I immediately replaced my bow and arrows back in my quiver, but the knights seemed much less reluctant to go off the defensive.

"Inish!" Dagonet cursed. "Devil ghosts!"

"Why would they not attack?" Galahad inquired, glaring around at the trees like he expected more of them to melt out of the bark.

"The horn is what they use to call for a retreat," I informed them.

"But _why_?" Galahad persisted.

"Merlin doesn't want us dead," Arthur retorted simply, sheathing Excalibur.

And I knew without a doubt that he was right.

*+*Elaine*+*

Naveen was a mess, there was no denying it. She was stuck between being absolutely elated that she now had Gawain, and crushed because he was out amidst immense danger. One minute she'd be singing at the top of her lungs, and then the next time you saw her, she'd be sobbing into her ale pitcher. It was moderately frightening to behold. In all the years I'd known her, she'd never fallen apart like this. The positive to this situation, however, was that I knew it meant she really cared for Gawain, and I was happy for her for finding someone who could pierce through her arrogant demeanor.

I, however, stayed mostly on the side of bliss. I was certain that I had Lancelot now, or at least his attention. The hardest was yet to come however, as when he got back, I would have to prove to him that I was worth his time. I just hoped he would be able to see something in me that appealed to his heart.

I'd been at the tavern since the knights left even though I didn't have to work. Originally it had been to give some support to Naveen, but ever since I'd realized she was beyond help, it was more out of boredom. Eventually I just couldn't take her wailing-then-laughing routine anymore, and went to take a walk. Winter had finally arrived at the fort, bringing a terrible cold with it. At this time of evening, your face went numb the moment you stepped outside. I pulled the hood of my cloak up, pulling the folds of it tighter around me as I picked up a brisk pace to keep the feeling in my toes.

The Wall was my favorite place to take a midnight stroll. It was often deserted besides the guards that were there for surveillance, and most of the time they ignored the people that walked by. It was solitary and just the thing I needed to get away from my jumbled up thoughts.

The stars were beautiful tonight, a myriad of sparkling points of light that, paired with the nearly full moon, lit up the sky so that the night was much brighter than usual. I wondered if Lancelot was looking up at this very same sky. With any sort of luck, he was thinking about me as well.

A cough broke me out of my thoughts, and I looked back to earth to see a tall figure standing several yards way from me. Recognizing the curtains of black hair that hid his face, I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

Desiderius looked around at me, and smiled, though it didn't reach his sad eyes at all. He was wearing a plain brown cloak over his healer's robes, and his nose and cheeks were bright red from the cold, so I knew he'd been out here much longer than I.

"Elaine, how are you?" he asked. His attempt at sincere happiness at seeing me was tapered by the dull sheen of his eyes.

Desiderius had never really had friends when we were growing up, though Naveen and I always did our best to be kind to him in our teenage years. His mother, in her bigoted ways, thought every playmate beneath him, and her negative words often put off anyone from trying to befriend him. It was made worse by the fact that he was far more educated than most, and therefore was a lot more mature than the other kids and had less in common with them. He'd remained just as solitary in his adult life as he had in his childhood.

Which is why it wasn't that surprising that he took a shine to Aderyn. She too had been forced to mature faster than anyone else her age, and hadn't had anyone to play with (though she didn't have anyone simply because there were no children around her). They were both just lonely people learning to make their way in the world, and Desiderius was attached to her because he saw a kindred spirit. Unfortunately, he seemed to have grown a bit _too_ attached.

"Are you alright?" I asked him concernedly.

"Spectacular," he deadpanned. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, a silly reason, really. It seems to me that you might be up here to throw yourself off the Wall instead of to have a nice evening stroll like me."

He laughed, but the amusement left his face just as fast as it came. He shook his head, and then peered at me through heartbroken eyes. "We're friends, right, Elaine?"

"Of course," I assured him. "Since we were young."

"And you would keep a secret even if it was about a comrade we both share?"

Already knowing what secret he planned to tell me, I quickly rearranged my expression to look curious. "Yes, I swear."

"It's…it's Aderyn. Gods, I can't get her off my mind," he admitted brokenly. "Ever since she first came to the infirmary, it's like I've lost my mind. At first I was just fascinated by her because she was so…exotic. And then she opened her eyes and while I was bandaging her hands, she looked so terrified, and it was the first time I've ever felt like I needed to protect someone. It isn't just one attribute that makes me love her, it's everything. The way she smiles, how intuitive she is, her intelligence, her daring, that little frown she gets when she's confused. But that knight!" His eyes darkened and his hands curled into fists. "He is not right for her at all! He's much too old in the first place, and how many people has he murdered in his lifetime? Thousands? She's too expressive to be with someone so emotionless! The worst part is that he barely pays any attention to her! She should be with someone affectionate, who can give her all the love and consideration she deserves. Not a worn out soldier without a kind word in his body! I would fight him for her if I thought I could win, but I know that even if by some miracle of the gods I did, she still wouldn't want me. It kills me how I see every part of her, and she looks right at me and…doesn't see anything."

My silence after Desiderius's rant was mostly due to unbridled stupefaction than anything else. I'd thought he had a little crush on Aderyn, nothing so serious. The fact that he'd even thought of the outcome of a fight with Tristan showed just how deep this went.

"I don't want to make this worse for you or hurt you in any way, but after seeing Aderyn and Tristan together, I think they might be better for each other than you think." He threw me a scornful look which I shook my head to. "No, really. She may not think she needs looking after, but she's her own worst enemy. He protects her from herself and does his best to keep her from doing stupid things that could get her hurt."

"Then how did she end up on this mission?" he groaned, grabbing two handfuls of his own hair and tugging. "If he does such a good job keeping her safe, then why is he leading her straight into the mouth of the Saxons?"

"We both know she's stubborn. I said he does his best, he just doesn't always succeed. But I can promise you this: she's happy with him. I know from personal experience that it hurts when you care for someone and they don't even notice you, but I also know that knowing they're happy is the second best thing to actually having them."

"That's all I want," he responded, voice almost getting lost in the wind as it picked up. "I just want her to be as happy as she can be."

"She is," I said, trying to break this to him gently. "And even though it hurts, sometimes it's better to move on when it becomes apparent that the person you've set your affections on isn't ever going to leave the person they're with."

"Is that what you think?" he questioned bitterly. "That she'll always be with Tristan?"

"I won't lie to you. Yes, that is what I think. I'm sorry, Desiderius."

He took a few deep breaths, and then stepped back from the edge of the Wall. The smile he put on was tight and insincere.

"No need to be sorry…because I don't plan on giving up the fight that easily." He began to back away from me, towards the stairs that lead back to the street. "I love her, Elaine, and I'm not going to let her go until I've least made her see all of her options."

He turned on his heel and trotted down the steps, and I continued my walk after a few moments. If he did confess his feelings for Aderyn when she returned, I knew exactly what would happen. She would refuse him, and his broken heart would be even more agonizing. Of course, the worst would come when she told Tristan, thinking it was just an innocently shared fact between lovers. I didn't know for sure what the silent knight would do when he found out, but I was fairly certain he wouldn't take kindly to anyone trying to steal Aderyn from him.

*+*Tristan*+*

After we cut down the vines that were trapping us in, I scouted ahead for the rest of the day, only returning for the occasional report. We took no more breaks. Arthur was determined to get as far clear from that tribe's territory as possible, and since Aderyn could tell you the exact location of every tribe in Briton, we finally knew how far was far enough.

Just as the sun was going down, I found a good place to make camp. It was a small clearing surrounded by trees packed tightly together. It would be easy to defend, and the trees were tall enough for us to be able to make a fire without burning the forest down.

I galloped back to Arthur to tell him what I'd found, and all of the knights looked relieved. Aderyn actually threw her head back and made a sound that was much too close to ones I'd heard her make in the bedroom for my liking.

Once we arrived, the usual routine began. Galahad went to collect firewood, Dagonet and Gawain went hunting, Bors prepared the cookware for the meal, Jols took care of the horses, and Arthur and Lancelot began to map out the next day's route. The bishop's lapdog was watching the knights curiously, like the idea of some people actually having to work for food and warmth was something that he'd never thought of. Normally I would have gone and circled around the encampment to check for any signs of threat, but I noticed Aderyn standing with Arthur and Lancelot, listening to whatever the Commander was saying with rapt attention, so I went to them instead.

"Tristan," Arthur greeted when he saw me. "I was just informing Aderyn of our usual watch routine. She says she can track."

"She can," I confirmed, remembering all the rabbits and deer we ate while I was staying with her in the woods. You couldn't hunt unless you had at least some knowledge of tracking.

"Good. She's joining you on the sweep then," Arthur decided.

"What's the sweep?" she inquired.

"You walk around the camp looking for any signs of danger: recent footprints, traps, dead animals. You meet Tristan in the middle, and then move out further."

"Okay," she said excitedly, just happy to have been given a task.

We went out to the open forest, beginning to circle around the camp, fanning out wider every time we came upon each other again. After our sixth rotation, we could no longer even see the clearing, so we mutually deemed it safe.

Gawain was skinning a small doe when we returned while Dagonet fashioned a spit from a thin branch. Aderyn gave the blond knight an appalled look, and walked over to him, snatching the tools from his hands.

"What are you doing?!" she gasped. "That's no way to skin a deer!"

Slightly offended, Gawain narrowed his eyes at her. "What's wrong about it?"

"Do you see this?" she pointed to the underside of the skin where there was still some meat stuck to it. "Wasteful, that's what you are! Move over, I'll do it."

She nudged Gawain with her knees, and then sat down to begin skinning the animal herself. Dagonet coughed to suppress his chuckle at the look of aggravation Gawain sported when she pulled the skin off without a single piece of edible meat stuck to it.

"All clear, Tristan?" Arthur asked.

I nodded. "Some bear tracks, but it should be hibernating now."

"Good." He glanced over at Aderyn, who had commandeered the entire meal preparation, and smiled. "I see she's keeping busy."

"Thinks she does everything better than everyone else," I grunted.

"I know you must have been angry that I gave her my permission without consulting with you first. I apologize."

I shrugged. "I'm not her father. I can't tell her what to do. Even if I'd told her not to come, she'd still be here right now."

"Do you think she'll be able to handle herself if we run into the Saxons?"

I turned my eyes onto her, watching the way she chopped through the meat on the doe, not flinching when blood splattered her arms and hands. I'd seen her in battle before, when the Saxons attacked her home, and the way she fought then had surprised me. Somehow a sword in her fist gave her much more grace than she had in every day life, even one that was much too heavy for her like the one she'd fought with that day. There was something very feral in the way she cut through men, some even twice her size. It reminded me distinctly of the woman who brought her up.

"She's more Woad than she thinks she is. I don't doubt her."

/\/\/\/\/\

Just as we finished eating, the rain started. It was heavy, falling down on us in fat droplets that stung the skin and soaked through fabric quicker than normal. Aderyn began to shiver so violently, I ended up giving her my cloak. Now she was perched on a log next to where I sat on the ground, her knee resting against my shoulder while I sharpened my sword again. Galahad and Arthur were on watch duty, Jols was already asleep, and the manservant was sitting off by himself, reading a bible he'd brought.

Gawain let out a loud groan of irritation, and pulled his knees closer to his body. "Oh, I can't wait to leave this island!" he exclaimed. "If it's not raining, it's snowing. If it's not snowing, it's foggy."

"And that's the summer," Lancelot added.

"The rain is good," Bors said. "Washes all the blood away."

"It doesn't help the smell," Dagonet quipped, giving Bors a poignant look. The portlier man just laughed good-naturedly.

"Hey Bors, do you intend to take Vanora and all your little bastards back home?" Lancelot asked.

"I've tried to avoid that decision," Bors answered, looking up at the sky. "By getting killed."

The men laughed at that, and I even felt Aderyn shaking with silent mirth. She had taken out her bow and begun to carve symbols into it, Woadish by the looks of it. It was the only language she had any ability to read, and it was barely written anymore. Perhaps I should teach her, I knew it was something she would enjoy.

"Dagonet, she wants to get married and give the children names," Bors announced.

"Women," I scoffed.

Aderyn flicked my ear in reprimand, asking the knight, "The children already have names, don't they?"

"Just Gilly," Bors responded. "It was too much trouble, so we just gave the rest of them numbers."

"Hmm…I always wondered why Vanora is always hollering numbers," Aderyn said. "It makes sense now."

"That's interesting, Bors," said Lancelot. "I thought you couldn't count." Another laugh rang through the camp, but this time Bors didn't join in, shooting a glare at Lancelot. His face fell suddenly though, and he became serious.

"You know, I never thought I'd get back home alive," he admitted. "And now I've got the chance I…don't think I'd leave my children."

"You'd miss them too much," said Dagonet.

"I'll take them with me," he decided. "I like the little bastards. They mean something to me." Bors must have had enough sentimentality tonight, because he quickly added, "Especially number Three! He's a good fighter."

"That's because he's mine," Lancelot retorted with a grin.

Gawain choked on his drink, and Bors scowled. "I'm going for a piss," he grunted, the laughs of the men punctuating his humiliation as he strolled away.

"What about you, Gawain?" Dagonet asked. "You and that barmaid, that was an interesting sight."

The other man adopted a nonchalant expression, shrugging. "I like Naveen. She's not like the rest of them."

"Oh please," Lancelot snorted. "Don't pull that on us. You were practically devouring each other in the stables this morning."

"Don't worry, Gawain," Aderyn began with a smile. "It's not like we didn't see it coming. I mean, it was bound to happen. You two have been undressing each other with your eyes for months!"

"Better than _actually_ undressing each other in public places," Gawain quipped, arching an eyebrow at her. "Like the stables."

"What are you talking about?" Aderyn snapped harshly, but we both already knew what he was getting at.

"I guess you and Tris must have thought you were alone," Gawain began to laugh.

"Please tell me you're not joking," Lancelot said, gaping at the blond man.

"I would never jest about a midday tryst amongst the hay piles, my friend."

"I never would have taken you for an exhibitionist, Aderyn," sniggered Lancelot.

I remained impassive about the situation, but she grabbed the knife she'd been using to cut her meat and leaned over me to point it threateningly at Gawain. "Not…another…word," she hissed. "Now I'm going to bed, and so should all of you. We have to wake early, and I won't be stopping if any of you fall off your horses from exhaustion!"

She laid out her bedroll behind us, and pulled the blanket up over her head to block out the sound of Gawain and Lancelot chuckling.

* * *

**Fi am eich bobl! Nid ydym yn dod i wneud rhyfel! Gadewch i ni basio, ac ni fyddwn yn trafferthu chi ymhellach!: I am of your people! We do not come to make war! Let us pass, and we shall not bother you further!**

**Rydych yn gwybod beth mae'n ei olygu. Ydych chi'n fodlon i anufuddhau eich arweinydd?: You know what it means. Are you willing to disobey your leader?**

**So yeah, there you have chapter eight. This might actually be one of my favorites, it has a lot of moments I really enjoy. Writing the scene where the Woads attack them was actually really difficult though. It took me a couple days to get it how I wanted.  
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**So two things. One: if you find any movie dialogue mistakes, please let me know! I want everything to be as close to the movie as I can get!  
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**Two: there will be a picture of Aderyn's sword up on the tumblr if you're interested! As always, the link is in my profile!  
**


	9. Dog Days Are Over

**Hello everyone! There's really not much to say here today, so on to** **the chapter!**_  
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_"The horses are coming, so you better run. Run fast for your mother and fast for your father. Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers. Leave all your love and your longing behind. You can't carry it with you if you want to survive."-Florence + the Machine  
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*+*Aderyn*+*

I had the last shift of guard duty with Lancelot. Arthur had originally left me out of the time schedule, but after me complaining and begging insistently for about five minutes, he moved around the shifts. There was a good chance he'd done it more to get me to stop talking than for any other reason.

I stood at the edge of our little camp, arms crossed to keep myself warm. The rain had switched to snow whilst I was asleep, and the ground me was now covered in a thin layer of hard-packed slush.

I was randomly thinking about how any children Naveen and Gawain might have in the future would be devastatingly good-looking when I sensed someone standing behind me. I withdrew my sword, spun around, and brandished it at the intruder. Lancelot was staring at me with both eyebrows raised, a slight smirk on his face.

"Jumpy, are we?"

"You snuck up on me," I accused, sheathing the weapon. "Anyone would react the same." He just scoffed, scraping snow away from the ground in front of a tree, and flopping down to sit there.

"Shouldn't you stay on the other side of camp?" I asked.

"Nothing's going to attack us," he responded confidently. "Unless you have some sort of vendetta against gophers, I think you're safe. Sit down."

Taking one more sweeping look across the forest, I copied his motions, scraping away the snow and sitting on the cold dirt underneath, stretching my legs out in front of me and crossing my ankles.

If I were with any of the other knights, the silence that followed may have been comfortable or tolerable at the least. But with Lancelot, it quickly became tense and awkward. Our little feud from the first moment we met still continued on to this day, something he obviously hadn't considered before walking over here.

I noticed he was running his hand over something attached to his belt, staring at it with a strange longing. After closer observation, I discerned it was a small wooden carving of a bear attached to a leather chord, just as intricate as the hawk Tristan had carved for me but much darker than the driftwood mine was made of. The face was worn, like he'd run his fingers over it so many times the surface began to smooth down.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't hate you?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Probably not. You have every reason to."

"But I don't. I should, I suppose, but I understand why you did it. It's just hard to forgive."

He cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. "Let me ask you a question this time. Why did you volunteer to come on a mission that could possibly end in you fighting a race who has already brutally attacked you once?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

I sighed, looking away from his curious face and staring out at the trees. "The most dangerous adversaries you've ever faced during your service are Saxons, Woads, and Romans…this is a mission involving all three. Arthur himself said it's more perilous than any you've taken on so far. When I heard him telling you of this mission, all I could think about was how it would feel to stand on the Wall and watch Tristan go. It wouldn't be like the other times because…I almost…"

"You don't think we're going to survive," he realized.

I bit my lip, shaking my head. "How can we?" I whispered. "We're surrounded with only nine capable fighters and a man whose most redeemable quality is saying prayers in Latin. They haven't closed in on us yet, but they will. I survived the deaths of my parents, my sister, my brother, and Drenna…but I won't survive losing Tristan. I _can't_. So I'm going to be with him when this all comes crashing down around us."

The first rays of the sun had started to peek over the horizon while we spoke, so I stood up before Lancelot could reply, ignoring his disturbed expression.

"Dawn," I announced. "We need to wake everyone if we want to get to the Romans before noon."

/\/\/\/\/\

After four hours of nonstop riding through the snow-covered wilderness, Tristan returned from scouting, telling us that the estate wasn't very far ahead. I was starting to become nervous, having a bad feeling in general about this family we were coming to retrieve. We knew nothing about them except their names and that the pope cared very much about the son, Alecto. Coming into contact with someone the pope was fond of put me off in the first place.

The trees ahead began to thin, and finally we came upon a dirt trail that curved around a large mansion enclosed by high walls in the center of a large glade. Surrounding the outside were small huts made of animals skins stretched across wooden frames, shaped crudely like small houses. Dirty, malnourished people, poorly dressed for the cold weather, milled about with hollow eyes. Some of them were digging what could only be a moat around the house, sloshing about in the muck left behind by the rain. They started to leave their jobs and hurry towards the front of the house to see what was going on as we galloped past.

The guards standing atop the wall slammed the gates shut as we approached, forcing us to stop on the other side of the wall. Villagers stood to either side of us, looking up in awe. A little girl that could be no more than four winters old was gaping up at me, clutching her mother's hand. I smiled, giving her a little wave. She smiled and hid her face in her mother's skirt bashfully.

"Who are you?" barked one of the guards, glaring down at us.

"I am Arthur Castus, Commander of the Sarmatian knights, sent by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate."

The guard nodded to one of his fellows, and with an almighty creak, they were opened to reveal a short, round Roman flanked by four guards. He was dressed in finery, and exuded an air of deceptive friendliness that I could almost smell it was so potent. I guessed this was Marius Honorius, the lord of these lands.

"It is a wonder you have come!" Marius exclaimed. "Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights!" He reached out to pat the snout of Galahad's horse, but the animal reared it's head and backed up a few paces. Undaunted, he continued, "You got past the Woads? Vile creatures!"

I was at the perfect angle to kick him in the face…if there was only a way I could pass it off as an accident…

"Our orders are to evacuate you immediately," Arthur declared.

Marius chortled, looking back at his guards as if to get them in on the joke. "That is impossible."

"Which is Alecto?" Arthur inquired.

"I am Alecto," came a voice from the wall. A young boy stood there, doubtfully older than sixteen winters. A woman stood with him, most likely his mother judging by her fine clothing and sparkling jewelry.

"Alecto is my son," said Marius. "And everything we have is here, given to us by the pope of Rome."

"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons," Lancelot snapped, done with being diplomatic.

"They're invading from the North," Arthur finished.

"Then Rome will send an army," he insisted.

"They have," Arthur told him. "Us. We leave as soon as you're packed.

Alecto and his mother descended from the wall to stand behind Marius. The short man was now glowering at us, and his tone was dangerous as he said, "I refuse to leave."

His mean little eyes darted to each one of us, making sure that we all got the message loud and clear, but when he looked at me, something shifted in his eyes for the smallest of seconds before he managed to cover it up. Whatever part of himself he'd let through in that second scared me enough to make me shudder.

"Go back to work!" he shouted at the villagers. "All of you!"

"You heard him!" the guards began to shout, rounding on them. "Get back to work!"

They started to shove them, pushing them back towards the pits they were digging. One of them hit a man so hard in the face he fell over, and another made the mother of the little girl I'd waved at trip and fall on her hands and knees. I grit my teeth, one hand already poised on the hilt of my sword. What I wouldn't give for Arthur to give the command right now.

The Commander in question dismounted from his horse, striding angrily over to Marius and grounding out through his teeth, "If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land. So you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself." He paused, and then added a perfunctory, "My lord." He looked back at the man's wife, and said, "Lady, my knights are hungry."

She touched her husband's arm in a silent plea for permission, and he waved her away. "Go."

She hurried back towards the mansion, and after a short stare down with Arthur, Marius followed, pushing his son after him. The boy didn't go into the house, however, but stayed at the gates amongst the guards, looking at the abused villagers almost sadly. Arthur surveyed his surroundings, and then finally turned back to us.

"Come," Bors said. "Let's go."

Arthur's attention was already elsewhere though, to the left portion of the village where a shirtless elderly man was hanging from chains. There were lacerations down his back, and his wrists were chafed and bleeding from the pressure of holding up his weight. Arthur grabbed Excalibur from the sheath on his saddle, and marched over there.

Bors rolled his eyes to the sky for a moment, and then pulled out his own sword before dismounting. Lancelot was experiencing a similar reaction, sighing as he watched the half-Roman, half-Briton begin to demand answers from the villagers about why the man was out there.

Two men stood near a windowless shack to the right of the gates, both wearing hooded black cloaks. Both were pale to the point that it made you wonder if they spent any time outdoors, and were watching us curiously. I assumed by the crucifixes they wore around their necks that they were some sort of Christian priests. One of them started towards us, grabbing Bors as he made to go back Arthur up.

"Are you from Rome?" he asked, almost desperately.

"From Hell," Bors responded. The man instantly let go of him, sending the rest of us fearful looks. I glanced back to the other priest, but found he was hurrying towards the house, glancing back towards me only once before he disappeared behind the great wooden doors.

Tristan, Galahad, and I stayed on our horses, watching as Arthur talked to the villagers while the others stayed closer to the commander on foot in case any of the guards suddenly became brave enough to attack. Arthur cut the chains holding the old man up, and two women came to his aid. Following this, he proclaimed that they should follow us when we left, for protection against the Saxons, putting one man in charge of overseeing the preparations.

I glanced around at the villagers, counting at least one hundred, probably more. That meant a much slower pace and an easier to spot group. I had no idea how we alone were going to protect all of these people from Saxons when it was doubtful we could save ourselves. Then there was the whole other matter of the cold and making sure there was enough food. If it wasn't certain we were going to die before, it was now.

Arthur came back over to the horses then, sheathing his sword. "Aderyn, I want you on the perimeter," he ordered. "A bigger circumference than last time, and don't trust any of these people. Tristan, I want to know where the Saxons are and how soon we should be expecting them."

We both nodded, and rode off in separate directions. I completed the first four rotations as normal, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Trotting through my fifth, however, I noticed footprints near the rear of the property. Two people by the looks of it, and fresh enough to have occurred only minutes before. I dismounted and began to follow them. They lead straight towards the back gates of the house. I unsheathed my sword and began to jog to Egryn, planning to ride back to Arthur as fast as I could.

The hands came from behind me, one around my throat and another around my waist, lifting my entire body up into the air. I made to yell, but the hand on my neck was crushing my windpipe, making it impossible for me to make a single sound. I slashed back with my sword, but my forearm was grabbed by another pair of hands and twisted, forcing me to let go of the blade or have my wrist broken.

"Quickly!" a raspy voice barked. "Before she can scream!"

The arms squeezed me tighter, forcing the breath of out of me, but I wasn't going to give up so easily. I still had a dagger hidden in the waistband of my breeches. I fumbled for it, desperately attempting to hold on to consciousness. Once the knife was within my grasp, I stabbed over my shoulder at the man's face, unable to tell what I was hitting as I slashed at him. Finally, I buried the blade into his flesh. He roared in pain, his grip slackening due to his distraction. It was all I needed to wriggle loose, dropping to my knees on the ground and gasping for air. I rolled away, getting back to my feet to catch my first view of my attackers.

Both were guards for the estate, one of whom was rolling around on the ground, clutching the knife buried in his recently blinded eye and bellowing in pain. The other, however, made another grab for me. I easily sidestepped him, punching him in the ribs on his way by. With our positions now reversed, it was easy for me to grab my sword from the ground, dropping into a defensive position as he drew his own. Foolishly, he made the first move, stabbing towards my right, an easily avoidable maneuver. I twirled out of his reach, cutting down towards his head. He was nowhere near fast enough, naturally slow and weighed down by armor. A loud clang echoed around us when my sword made a dent in his helm, and he reeled away from me, wiping away a trickle of blood running down his forehead.

"Giving up so easily?" I taunted, circling him. "Did you expect less of a fight? Sorry to disappoint."

Enraged, he began to swing at me wherever he could reach. The moves became easier and easier to deflect as he tired himself out. I became bored with the duel, and after a particularly poor attempt at cutting my legs out from under me, disengaged and then plunged my blade through his chest. His face reflected surprise for barely a second before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I pulled the sword from him with a sickening squelch, and he fell, dead.

Perhaps I should have felt sorry for killing someone, but I couldn't knowing that his plan for me could have been much worse. How could I feel bad for the death of someone who tried to hurt me first? The answer was simple: I couldn't.

Leaving the body on the ground, I went over to the other guard, who was still moaning loudly while clutching his face. My knife was still lodged in his eye socket, and there was blood everywhere. I kicked his side, and he forced opened his good eye to gaze at me fearfully.

"Get up," I snapped. He just continued to lay there, whimpering, so I kicked him again, harder, and pointed my sword in his face. "Up! Now!"

He got to his feet, and I took his sword from its sheath, throwing it back into the woods. "Here's what's going to happen," I began icily. "I am going to get back on my horse and ride back to Arthur. You are going to walk in front of me, and if you try to run…I will shoot you. Trust me, I have no qualms about ending your pathetic life just like I did your friend's! Is that understood?"

He nodded feebly, so I mounted Egryn, sheathed my sword, and withdrew my bow, knocking an arrow. "Walk!" I barked.

We began our trek back around the manse, the guard sobbing all the way. I kept my arrow trained on the back of his head, ready to let it loose at any second if he should try to run. He didn't though, much too terrified to deviate even the smallest bit from the path.

When we came to the front of the house, the entire place was in commotion. Villagers rushed around to prepare for the journey, servants for the Honorius's packed their things into the wagons, and the guards shouted orders at everyone. When I came around with the bloody guard in front of me, people stopped to stare, backing away from me as fast as their feet could carry them.

Arthur and Tristan had been talking by the gate, but the commander stopped mid-sentence when he noticed me. Tristan turned to see what he was looking at, and they both dismounted, rushing over. I could tell be the look on Arthur's face that he was none too pleased with me and just hoped that he would wait to hear my side of the story before unleashing his fury.

I replaced my bow in my quiver, favoring my sword as I got off of Egryn to stand behind the guard. I whacked him in the shins with the flat side of the blade, and he dropped to his knees, still crying fitfully. The rest of the knights had come over to see what the fuss was about as well.

"Aderyn, what is this about?" Arthur asked through his teeth.

I pointed my sword at the guard's face, snarling, "Him and one of his little friends just tried to knock me out!" I lifted my chin so they could see my neck. "I'm assuming by how hard he was choking me that there will be bruises."

Tristan had his sword point pressed to the man's collarbone in a flash, his eyes thunderously enraged.

"Is this true?" Arthur asked dangerously.

The guard just sobbed louder, hunching over. "My eye," he began to moan. "Oh, my eye!"

"You're lucky it was just your eye," Lancelot growled. "If it was any of us, you'd be missing a great deal more." As if to demonstrate, Tristan drew the tip of his sword across the man's neck, raising a thin line of blood.

"Who ordered this?" Arthur asked. When the man said nothing, he repeated the question louder. There was no audible answer, but his good eye flicked over to the shack I'd noticed earlier. Two of the old priests were bricking the door closed as fast as their elderly limbs would allow. Two guards stood behind them, shouting for the pair to move faster.

Arthur made his way over there, the other knights following him. I gripped the hilt of the knife in the guard's eye, and said as I pulled it out, "This is mine." The guard's renewed screams of agony went ignored as I cleaned the blade against his cloak before following Arthur and the knights.

Excalibur drawn and gripped in his hand, Arthur asked the priests, "What is this?"

"You can't go in there," one of them insisted. "No one goes in there. This place is forbidden!"

He pushed them aside, observing the newly stacked bricks. Marius suddenly ran over, demanding we stop, but his approach was halted by Bors. Arthur called Dagonet to him, and the large knight grabbed his axe without question, using it to knock down the bricks covering the door. Once they were removed, he kicked the door, but it didn't budge.

"Key," Arthur demanded from the guards who were standing nearby, watching regretfully.

"It is locked…from the inside," one told him.

Arthur nodded at Dagonet to go on, and with two much more violent kicks from the giant man, the door flew open. Lancelot, Gawain, and Dagonet prepared to follow Arthur in, and I moved to join them. Arthur gave me an inquisitive look.

"They wanted me in there for some reason," I said. "I want to see what it is."

The commander nodded in understanding, and said no more. Gawain grabbed the two monks, and forced them into the dark room with him. Tristan turned his back on the door and withdrew his sword to guard it while we went inside.

The smell assaulted you the second you entered: death, decay, and incense. It was absolutely detestable. Lancelot handed me a torch, and the walls were illuminated with a deep red glow. There were chains dangling from the ceiling and manacles drilled into the walls. A dungeon?

We moved through a narrow passageway, following the sound of a person chanting in what had to be Latin. When the smell was as bad as ever, a little man dressed in the black priest's robes appeared in front of us, glaring evilly.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?!" he growled.

"Out of the way!" Lancelot demanded, pushing the man to the side.

We set foot in a room with high ceilings, lit mostly by candles on an altar. There were more chains here, and the walls were lined with cells padlocked shut. Torture devices hung on the walls, some still glowing with fresh blood in the torchlight. Twisted, sharp, ugly machines were shoved in ever corner. The pain they must cause here was unfathomable to me.

And they'd tried to drag me down to join in the fun.

Lancelot rounded on Arthur suddenly. "The work of your God," he accused. "Is this how he answers your prayers?"

Arthur's eyes flicked to me, and then quickly away. "See if there's any still alive," he said, ignoring Lancelot's words.

Dagonet, Lancelot, Arthur, and I began to unlock the cells, peering inside. All I saw were dead bodies, some as old as the man Arthur had freed earlier, some as young as my little sister when she died. All were in various stages of decay, rats gnawing on their flesh and bone. I was beginning to get nauseous as time wore on, but I kept the sensation from my expression.

One of the priests, seemingly unable to take our intrusion anymore, grabbed Lancelot by the shoulders and attempted to drag him away from the cell he was searching. "How dare you set foot in this holy place-"

He was cut off by Lancelot thrusting his sword through his stomach so far that it poked out of his back. He withdrew the blade, letting the man slump to the floor. I couldn't say I was anything but happy about seeing him die.

"Daire was a man of God!" one of his fellows gasped.

"Not my god!" Lancelot bellowed, pointing in the man's face.

"This one's dead," Dagonet said.

"By the smell they are all dead," Gawain pointed out. He turned, pointing the torch he held at the remaining priests. "And you. You even move, you join him." He gestured to the dead one lying on the ground, and then began to help us look.

"Arthur!" Dagonet exclaimed, lifting a body out of one of the cells. It was a young boy with curly blond hair and a look of sheer terror on his very much alive face.

"You must not fear me," Dagonet told him, but the boy just gazed around continuing to look confused and frightened.

"The ones along this side are all dead," I announced.

"Over here too," Gawain said.

Glancing over at Arthur, I watched as he pulled an incredibly frail body from one of the cells. I thought she was dead until she turned her eyes onto me, not really seeing anything if the dazed quality she had about her was anything to go by.

"The rest are dead," Arthur declared. "These need medical attention immediately."

Lancelot lead the way out, holding a torch in one hand and one of his swords in the other. I stayed behind him, gritting my teeth at the thought of supposed "men of God" torturing small children. Starving them, burning them, prodding them with those devices…

We emerged finally, Lancelot and I tossing our torches in the snow to put them out. I took Egryn's reins from Tristan and climbed onto his back while Arthur screamed for water. Shockingly, Horton was the one to bring it over. Even this man, so obsessed with his god, could not deny the wrong in all of this. As Arthur was helping the girl drink, Marius's wife dashed over and kneeled next to her, even caressing the woman's face when she began to cough it all up seconds after getting it down. It was almost like she _cared_ for these captives. Had she even known they were down there? I looked over the fragile prisoner, and happened to notice the tattoos on her legs and arms.

I leaned toward Tristan, muttering, "Woad."

He repeated the message to Bors and Galahad, who both frowned at the news.

"I'm a Roman officer," Arthur was telling the woman. "You're safe now. You're safe."

She smiled serenely up at him, making me wonder if she'd even truly heard what he said.

"Stop what you are doing!" Lord Honorius roared, stampeding over with his face reddening with rage.

Arthur got to his feet, sneering at the man, "What is this madness?!"

"They are all Pagans here!" he roared.

"So are we," Galahad snapped.

"They refuse to do the task God has set for them!" Marius went on. "They must die as an example!"

"You mean they refuse to be your serfs!" Arthur bellowed.

Marius gawked at Arthur in disbelief. "You are a Roman! You understand! And you are a Christian!" He looked to his wife then, and shouted, "YOU! You kept them alive!"

He backhanded her, but Arthur was done with pleasantries. He hit the man directly in his mouth, knocking him onto his back and pointing Excalibur in his face. Some of his guards rushed to assist their lord, but he shouted, "No, no! Stop!" They obeyed him, warily looking around at the knights.

"When we get to the Wall," Marius growled at Arthur, "you will be punished for this heresy!"

Arthur grabbed him by the front of his robes, and said, "Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate!"

One of the remaining priests spoke up suddenly, saying, "I was willing to die with them…just to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved."

Arthur glared at him, saying quietly, "Then I shall grant his wish." He looked to the villagers. "Wall them back up."

"Arthur," Tristan said poignantly, reminding him how little time we had. The Saxons' war drums could still be heard, coming ever closer.

"I said wall them up!" he barked. A few of the male villagers grabbed onto the priests, shoving them back into their temple. "Knights, make sure the rest are ready to leave as soon as these are imprisoned."

They did as he said, but I watched as Arthur lifted the Woad woman off the ground. There was something so familiar about her, but I couldn't quite place it. It was the eyes…perfectly almond shaped and dark as the night. Where had I seen them before? Actually, it was the lips too. It was like I'd only seen _parts_ of her face, which was impossible. What was I missing? What…

Drenna. The lips, the eyes, even the hair…it all screamed of Drenna. Knowing she'd had no daughters, there was only one person that young woman could be: Guinevere, Drenna's niece and Merlin's only child.

We were in possession of the leader of the Woad's daughter. If they ambushed us, there would be no real way to prove we didn't take her ourselves, and if she was unconscious when that occurred, she couldn't tell them any different.

This wasn't good.

* * *

**That concludes the chapter! Finally some action, you guys should be happy, lol. So yeah, next chapter you'll get to see how Guinevere reacts to Aderyn, and after that, we have the infamous ice battle.**

**This is actually the middle chapter, so we're starting to wind down already. :\ ****But yeah, I'm just glad you're all enjoying these chapters! I hope you continue to do so as we move on to the last half of this fic. :D  
**


	10. One More

**Welcome to chapter ten!**

**I thought this was going to be late because I'm staying with my friend at his dorm, but one of them is dead asleep (snoring too by the way) and the other is playing Skyrim. Naturally, since they left me to my own devices with my laptop, I've taken this chance to update since there's nothing else to do. Don't you love quality bonding time with your friends? -sigh-  
**

**On to the reading!  
**

_"They think that I am staying down, but I'm not giving up tonight. Tonight the wall is coming down. I am stronger than my fears. This is the mountain that I climb. Got one hundred steps to go. Tonight I'll make it ninety-nine."-Fireflight _

*+*Aderyn*+*

After the priests were bricked back up, we finally got moving. The Honorius family traveled in a luxurious carriage with velvet-trimmed seats and curtains to block out the rest of us. Meanwhile, only the injured and elderly were allowed to ride in the few wagons that we had available, so the peasants were forced to walk, shivering in their thin clothing as it continued to snow.

Tristan had found a narrow trail that ran through the mountains in the East, effectively ruining the Saxons plans to cut off our escape to the South. Now we had a good head start on them. The sound of their drums had even faded behind us long ago, alleviating some of my anxiety. That sound brought back terrible memories, and now wasn't a good time to be reliving them. It was only a matter of time before we were forced to camp though, and we would lose a considerable amount of our lead. If only these people could move faster.

I rode near the middle of the convoy, flanking the wagon where Marius's wife, whom I'd learned was named Fulcinia, was tending to the victims we'd found in the torture chamber. Guinevere had spent most of her time unconscious, and had refused to speak the few times she'd awakened. I'd kept her identity a secret from everyone, not for her benefit, but for mine. When she found out who I was, I knew there would be a fight. It was my fault her aunt was dead, and because of this she was more than likely going to try and slip a knife between my ribs before this trip was done.

Arthur rode up next to me, handing me the reins to his horse. "I'm going to check on them," he said, nodding towards the wagon where Guinevere and the boy were being tended to. "Hold him until I get back."

I swallowed nervously, but took the reins as he dismounted, leading his horse along next to Egryn. If he mentioned my name, even in passing…

Out of every Woad in the entire country, she was the one that had to be locked up in that godforsaken dungeon! If there were any gods, they certainly didn't smile upon me. I hunched over in my saddle, scowling at the path ahead while I waited for Arthur to disembark.

After several minutes, he did, mounting back up without a word. I handed him the reins, and asked, "Did she say anything?"

"Her name is Guinevere," he reiterated. I got the feeling he was holding something back, and that alone frightened me but add it to the fact that he seemed short with me…

"You know, don't you?" I questioned bitterly.

He turned his eyes to me confusedly. "Know what?"

I realized my mistake, and quickly tried to correct it. "Oh, nothing. Never mind, I was just speaking nonsense."

"Aderyn."

His tone left no room for argument, and I groaned, shifting in my saddle uncomfortably. "She is Merlin's daughter," I informed him.

His eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing beneath his hairline. "How do you know this?"

"If she is Merlin's daughter, that would make her Drenna's niece," I explained. "She spoke of them often. They were her only family. And all of them had the same markings tattooed on their legs. I've known since I first saw her."

"Why did you not say something?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I retorted. "She will try to kill me once she finds out who I am. It's my fault her aunt died."

"That's not true. You couldn't have-"

"Spare me your well-intentioned lies, Arthur," I interrupted. "I know what I've done."

I dug my heels into Egryn, speeding up to escape the pitying looks of the Commander.

*+*Tristan*+*

I'd been at the head of the group since we started moving, being the only one who knew the best way to navigate through the trail I'd found. My hawk joined me after awhile, perching upon my arm contentedly as I rode.

My mind was still turning over the events at the mansion, how those men had the daring to try and take Aderyn down to that cellar. She would have ended up just like that Woad woman, tortured and malnourished, closer to death than life. Bloodlust burned in my gut every time I laid eyes on that lord. No one was saying so, but there was no way the guards had acted on their own. He'd told them to take her down there and then brick up the doors. Perhaps he would have said Woads took her, and if we were foolish enough to believe him, we would have ridden off to find her while they tore her to shreds right beneath our feet.

I'd seen enough of Aderyn hurt than I ever wanted to see. The first time I met her, she was still suffering ten years after the assault by the first tribe that invaded her lands. After that, I'd been too late to save her from being cut up by Saxons, and had done nothing but stand by while she was shot in the back. Now I'd been not even a mile away while someone tried to kidnap her and been none the wiser. Her pain effected me in an unexpected way, twisting in my chest like serrated daggers. If I had it my way, she would never know pain again. But that was impossible. So I vowed right then and there to kill anyone who ever hurt her again. It was not a promise that would be hard to stick to.

The woman in question appeared beside me suddenly, not even looking over to acknowledge my presence. Instead, she glared at her hands on the reins, her lips pursed. This seemed more like the demeanor of the girl I found in the forest than the one I'd brought to Hadrian's Wall. I didn't ask her what was wrong. It would just result in her snarling at me, so I waited for her to tell me herself.

"The Woad we found in the dungeon," she finally started, "the woman…her name is Guinevere, and she is Merlin's daughter. Drenna's niece." I kept my surprise internal, watching her reactions. Her hands were wringing the reins, her teeth biting down on her lips. "Eventually she'll find out who I am, and when she does…she'll hate me."

"You don't know that," I offered.

"But I do! Tristan…it's my fault her aunt died. If I hadn't been hiding you, there wouldn't have been any reason for that fight. Lancelot wouldn't have shot her, and she would still be alive. Don't misunderstand, I don't regret it because it brought me to you but…"

"You could not have prevented any of it. Lancelot made the choice to pick up the bow and take the shot."

"But if I-"

"Hush," I cut her off. "If you had not saved me, the Woad would have killed me, and you would have returned to your old life. Drenna may have been alive, yes, but you would never have left your home. A lifetime of grief, is that what you would prefer?"

"I suppose not."

"Then don't blame yourself. These things aren't accidents. Sometimes you must just accept that things happen for a purpose."

"Stop being so wise," she grumbled, kicking my leg playfully. I nudged her back, and she smiled, returning to her usual cheerfulness.

It was strange to look at her now and think of who she'd been back then. So timid and angry, always thinking that everyone had an ulterior motive for everything they did. I might like to think it was me who caused the changes in her, but that wasn't the truth. Everything she'd accomplished, she'd achieved on her own; getting over her parents, finding the courage to move, bonding with the people at the Wall, it was all things she had done with no one's help. The change that had caused was undeniable. She was happier, more confident. I just hoped things would stay this way.

"Tristan," she said sharply, pulling Egryn to a stop. I halted next to her, following her eyesight to the side of the road where bodies were strewn everywhere. Some were even impaled on sharp sticks and left to rot with their feet dangling inches from the ground.

I called for the caravan to halt, and waited for Arthur to come to us, as I knew he would. Sure enough, not long after, the knights came galloping up to stand with Aderyn and I.

"We'll sleep here," Arthur told us, pointing at a spot several hundred yards away. "Take shelter in those trees. Tristan!"

I looked at my hawk and asked her, "You wanna go out again?" I used my arm to launch her into the air, following the path she cut through the air on the ground to scout out the area we would be spending the night in.

*+*Aderyn*+*

The place Arthur chose for our camp was the perfect size, small enough to keep us concealed but large enough so that we wouldn't have to be too close to the Romans. Arthur assigned us our watch shifts, and then we went about our duties. Since the villagers and the Honorius's had their own food, I ended up cooking only for the knights. The men seemed to think that since I cooked the meal one night, I would do so every night. I had no problem with doing so, but wasn't sure whether or not I should be offended that they expected the only woman to do their cooking.

It continued to snow as the sky grew dark, blanketing the ground completely. Tristan was off scouting the trail for tomorrow, so I was left alone to do what I would. I decided to brush Egryn down, noting how scruffy he was beginning to look.

Partway through this activity, a voice from spoke from behind me. "A Briton girl with a black horse and a white mane," it began, making me freeze. "A rare thing, I'd say. Though not so rare to say there is only one. But you are made more recognizable still by your tattoos…I know that feather. I also know that sword, and I know you, though not by your face." I stayed completely still, wishing I could simply melt into the ground or blow away in the wind. "Aderyn."

"Guinevere," I acknowledged, voice tight with anticipation.

"Ah, so you have recognized me as well," she said, coming to stand right next to me so I could see her from my peripherals. "I am not surpassed. There is much about you that reminds me of my aunt so it does not surprise me that you are just as vigilant."

I finally stared at her head on, noticing how much healthier she looked, though still too thin. She was wearing a dress that must have belonged to Fulcinia, for it was much too opulent to have belonged to anyone else here with us. She held a red blanket around her shoulders to keep warm, but even gaunt with her hair still knotted, she was exceptionally beautiful.

"Is that what you're here for?" I asked, voice coming out a lot more harsh then I expected. "To exchange false pleasantries?"

"'False'?" she asked. She seemed confused, but I was unsure whether or not it was genuine. "Why would you think that?"

"You must know what's happened to Drenna by now."

"Of course," she said sadly. "My father and I buried her nearly five months ago."

"And I'm sure you were told exactly what happened and whose fault it was then," I retorted. "So just get whatever it is you really want to say to me out of the way."

"I assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about. What happened to Drenna was no one's fault but Fachtna's."

"Who?"

"Fachtna," she repeated, spitting his name like she didn't even want it on her lips. "The traitor who attacked the knight against Drenna's orders and caused the other knight to shoot. If he obeyed protocol, nothing would have turned out how it did."

I distinctly remembered the face of the man who'd charged Tristan that day. He'd been a recurring figure in my life, like it or not. Though he didn't know it, he was the reason Tristan and I found each other in the first place. On the battlefield where Tristan received his gruesome chest injury, that very man, Fachtna, was the one to inflict it. I'd knocked him out, and dragged Tristan to my house to repair his wounds. After that, he'd been the one to incite the fight with Tristan that caused Lancelot to shoot Drenna. And then when the Saxons attacked, he appeared and shot me to get revenge on Tristan for shooting his brother.

"He…he shot me in the back," I told her. "He said that Tristan killed his brother, and that he wanted to kill someone he loved so he would know what it felt like."

"The scout? The one with the bird?" she inquired. I nodded. "Then why would he…oh. I see. You and him." I began to turn bright red, but she just smiled. "No, don't be embarrassed. I suppose it was bound to happen, being isolated out there for weeks."

I shrugged, running my fingers through Egryn's mane. I had a question on my tongue that I desperately needed to know the answer to, but was afraid to speak. If I asked it, and got a negative answer, I think I might cry right on the spot. But the only way to know was to voice it…

"So you don't blame me?" I questioned in a whisper. "You or your father?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "There was nothing you could have done. Some things just have to happen. It is fate's course."

Her answer was so close to what Tristan said to me earlier, I let out a laugh. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that."

"You have no idea how glad I am to meet you," she quipped, smiling warmly. "My aunt did speak ever so highly of you over the years. My father and I tried to get her to introduce us over the years, but she always said you weren't quite ready. Always so protective."

"She was probably right. I was jealous of you," I admitted sheepishly.

"Me? Why?"

"Because you were related to her by blood, and I was just some child she accidentally acquired whilst on a walk one day," I explained.

"Oh no, believe me, Aderyn. In her eyes, you were her daughter. It didn't matter whose blood was whose. She loved you dearly. We were never half so close as you were."

And just like that I was crying, unable to stop the ugly sobs that continued to choke me up. Guinevere started to apologize, but I said, "No, it's not your fault. I'm sorry, it's just hard to believe she's g-gone sometimes. And hearing you s-s-say that really means a l-lot."

She waited for me to pull myself together, wiping my eyes and taking deep calming breaths until I was back to normal. "Well, if you were Drenna's daughter," she began, "I suppose that makes us cousins."

I gave her a watery smile. "Yes, I suppose it does."

A throat cleared, and we both looked to where Tristan was standing, Isolde's reins in one hand and a cautious look in his eyes. "Tristan," I greeted happily. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," he replied in a gruff way, his eyes scanning Guinevere distastefully as he took steps towards us, tying Isolde up next to Egryn. His hand brushed across my lower back as he passed, a silent supportful gesture that made me smile.

"I'll just leave you two alone," Guinevere said as she made to go. "We will have plenty of time to catch up, I promise you."

"I look forward to it."

She left, and I leaned my shoulder against the tree the horses were tied to, smiling. Tristan eyed me after removing Isolde's saddle, asking, "I guess it went well then?"

"Better than well," I replied. "She says that she doesn't blame me. And since Drenna thought of me as a daughter, it makes us cousins. She actually wanted to meet me, Tristan."

He brushed his lips against the top of my head, murmuring, "Good. I won't have to kill her then."

I giggled, slapping his chest playfully. "You wouldn't dare. The entire Woad army would be after you."

"If she'd hurt you, I wouldn't have cared who was after me," he said simply. "I would kill her. And anyone else who tried to get to you."

I pulled his head down to me, kissing first his chin, then his forehead, before ending at his lips. "Dw i'n dy garu di," I said.

"Tristan," Gawain said, interrupting our moment and stretching like a cat as he approached us. "Your turn to babysit."

The scout made a nonsensical noise of acknowledgement, let go of his hold on me, and went to where Gawain's watch was posted. I grabbed my bedroll from my bags, and followed him, laying the blankets down next to where he sat. I bunched up my cloak to use as a pillow, and laid down next to him, watching the intense way he surveyed our surroundings.

"Did you ever think you'd be in a relationship such as this?" I asked him out of the blue.

"No," he answered, short and to the point as usual.

"Me neither," I agreed. "I actually planned to just live out my days like I already was before you arrived, turning into an old crone more and more every day. I'm glad you came to save me from that."

He didn't acknowledge my words, shying away from emotional declarations as usual. "I think Arthur has taken a shine to Guinevere."

"Why do you say that?"

"He just followed her into the forest."

I sat up, and sure enough, Guinevere was leading Arthur over a snow-covered hill, all by themselves.

"That's an interesting development," I muttered to myself.

/\/\/\/\/\

Tristan woke me up in the early hours of the morning to replace him on watch. While I sleepily packed up my blankets and prepared to keep a look out, Tristan left to see how far the Saxons had gotten and how much time we had until they would catch up to us.

The sun rose, and there were no disturbances. My eyes found the wagon Dagonet was sleeping under, with the little boy, Lucan close by him. The knight had sort of adopted the orphan boy, taking him under his wing. Likewise, the boy followed Dagonet around like a puppy, attempting to copy everything he did. I smiled at the sight, glad to see someone was finding something good in this mission.

The light from the sun reflecting off the snow was hurting my eyes so I closed them, only for a moment…

The sound of yelling jostled me awake, and I cursed myself for falling asleep in the first place. Several of the guards were attacking Dagonet. I rose, and rushed towards the commotion. Ripping out my sword, I cut one's throat with it, and was preparing to strike another when-

"I have the boy!" Marius shouted, using Lucan as a human shield, holding a dagger to his throat. Dagonet and I exchanged a glance, wondering where best to go from here. We were surrounded, and Dagonet only had a small dagger in his hand at the moment.

"Kill them!" Marius roared at his guards, but they were too wary of us, one of whom they'd seen stab a man in the eye and the other who was easily the size of two of them combined. Fulcinia ran towards Marius, screaming for him to let Lucan go, but he just knocked her to the ground. "Kill them NOW!"

An arrow seemed to be protruding from Marius out of nowhere. But then Guinevere approached, nocking another arrow which she pointed at the guards. The Roman lord fell, gurgling noises emitting from his throat. Lucan ran for Dagonet, and the big man put him in the wagon, saying, "Down!" He grabbed his sword, and then turned to face the guards again.

Lancelot and Arthur came to stand next to Guinevere, toting their own swords. Lancelot made some snarky remark to Guinevere that I missed and she ignored. She shot an arrow at one of the guards feet, a warning. Galahad and Gawain rode towards us, and Bors burst out of the forest, screaming, "ARTURIUS! Do we have a problem, huh?!"

We were still outnumbered, but far surpassed them in skill. If they attacked us right now, it wouldn't even be a challenge to kill them all. By the uncertain looks on their faces, they knew it too.

Arthur pointed Excalibur at the head guard, and said, "You have a choice. You help, or you die." When he didn't answer immediately, Bors bumped his horse into one of them, making him stumble. With the reminder that there were Sarmatians all around, he dropped his blade.

"Put down your weapons," he told his men. "Do it now!"

They obeyed him, tossing their swords into the snow. Arthur nodded at Jols, and the stablemaster collected the weapons. The sound of a horse approaching caught everyone's attention, and Tristan came riding into the camp, a crossbow in one hand.

"How many did you kill?" Bors called to him.

"Four," he answered, almost boredly.

"Not a bad start to the day!" laughed Bors.

Tristan stopped in front of Arthur, dumping the crossbow at his feet. "Armor-piercing," he informed him. "They're close. We have no time."

"You ride ahead," Arthur commanded.

Tristan nodded, and looked down to me. I squeezed his knee, and then gave him a single nod to let him know everything was fine. He rode away, and I was left to help the knights pack up the camp and get moving before the Saxons showed up.

Thankfully, the men and women seemed to understand how dire our need for speed was, and we were packed and ready to go in record time. Arthur and Lancelot headed the group, I was in the rear with Galahad, and the others rode in various places around the middle, guarding the sides of the convoy. Galahad was irritated with the pace we were forced to make because of the peasants so he wasn't in much of a speaking mood, which I was glad for, for once. I was focusing on the sound of the drums, and how it got closer and closer every moment. The memories were getting hard to keep back, and every time I blinked I would see quick flashes of Ursus running through the woods, the dirty men leaning over me, my mother being raped on the floor, Melita's wide, staring eyes…

A shrill whistle snapped me out of my thoughts. It was a signal from Bors to tell Galahad and I to ride ahead. We sped up, galloping past the wagons and walkers, to where Tristan waited with Arthur, Jols, and the other knights. We were at the edge of a great frozen lake. It was vast on all sides and surrounded by mountains on either bank that made it impossible to skirt around.

"Is there any other way?" Arthur asked.

"No," Tristan answered. "We have to cross the ice."

"Get them all out of the carriages," Arthur said to Jols. "Tell them to spread out."

We all dismounted our horses, leading them across the ice on foot instead of riding. The less weight concentrated in one area, the less likely the ice would break. Arthur took point as we edged onto the slippery surface, taking slow, steady steps towards the other side. The villagers came out behind us, surrounding the wagons instead of riding in them. The ground beneath us made ominous groaning sounds as we walked, and I kept my eyes trained on my feet for any signs of fissures. Egryn sensed the danger, and began to throw his head back, neighing and snorting angrily.

"Shhh, boy, shhh," I whispered, stroking his snout absentmindedly, not taking my eyes off the ground.

A shrill snap sounded, and I drew in a sharp breath, freezing in my tracks. I looked around at the knights, exchanging similar looks of wariness with them. We took a few more steps before I heard a sound that scared me so much, I slipped, gasping, and had to grasp the side of the saddle to keep from landing on my backside. Arthur raised his arm in a silent command for a halt when he heard it too: drums. So close behind that my eardrums nearly vibrated with the sound. They'd found our tracks. They were following, and they would be here within moments.

Arthur turned around, facing us with a resigned expression. "Knights," he said.

"Well, I'm tired of running," Bors decided. "And these Saxons are so close behind, my ass is hurting."

"I never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan added, flicking his eyes over to me.

"It'd be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain pointed out.

"And finally get a look at the bastards," Galahad finished.

"Here, now," Dagonet agreed. Lancelot gave a well-what-can-you-do sort of shrug.

Arthur asked, "Are you with us, Aderyn?"

Touched that he'd even involved me in this, I smiled, saying, "I always did love a good uneven fight. Where's the challenge in equal numbers?"

The corners of his lips twitched, and he nodded. "Jols," he called.

"You two," Jols called to two of Marius's old guards. "Take the horses."

I withdrew my bow and quiver from the saddle, putting them over my shoulder, and grabbed a few daggers from my bag to shove in my waistband and boots, grabbing my sword last. I wrapped my arms around Egryn's neck before the guard took him away, saying, "Be a good boy while I'm gone. I'll see you soon."

Jols and the man from the village who'd Arthur taken into his service, Ganis, began to collect the extra arrows from the wagons, dividing them into equal piles for us. We were to stand in a straight line, facing the way we entered the lake. Tristan was on the right wing, and I positioned myself to his other side, Lancelot to my left. Arthur, meanwhile, was talking to Ganis.

"Ganis, I need you to lead the people. The main Saxon army is inland, so if you track the coastline 'til you're well south of the Wall, you'll be safe."

"You're eight against two hundred," the man pointed out.

"Nine," Guinevere corrected, coming over to join us. "You could use another bow."

Arthur didn't protest, but watched her warily as she came over to Lancelot's other side. I nodded at her, and she nodded back.

I picked up my bow, blocking out the sound of Arthur and the wagons trundling by and the drums booming deafeningly. Instead, I focused on keeping my heartbeat steady, my memories at bay. Right now, I needed to stay focused. It could be the difference between life and death. So I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let my mind run over the events of the day my family died, reliving every moment but not letting the emotions overwhelm me. I kept the images of the men's faces, every one of them that I'd seen, taking every single detail into account. I used their memory to build up a steady anger, burning in my chest, replacing the fear and the sadness that came from thinking I might just die here. When I opened my eyes, I would be ready, show no fear. I breathed in as much air as I could, breathed out, and opened my eyes

The wagons were gone, all signs of the villagers had disappeared over the crest of the hill with them. Now it was just the nine of us, bows poised and ready as the army began to trickle in across from us. Two hundred was a big number in principle, but when you were face to face with it, it seemed much, much bigger.

I looked at Tristan out of the corner of my eye, and he seemed calm, determined. The realization that we might not both be living when the sun set today washed over me, and I promised myself that if we did make it out, I would take the time to show him just how much I loved him instead of just speaking the words.

By the looks of the army ahead of us, I might not even get that chance.

* * *

**Dw i'n dy garu di: I love you**

**I know a lot of you were excited to see some sort of bitch fight between Guinevere and Aderyn, but I didn't want that. It seems like everything goes wrong so much for them that we needed _some_thing to be easy. So there you go, we've got a new family-like dynamic going on, and I love the way it turned out.  
**

**So next chapter will be the ice battle! DUN DUN DUN! If I get a decent amount of reviews, I might even post it early... ;D  
**


	11. Only If For A Night

**Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I was busy, and it completely slipped my mind. Here's the chapter.  
**

_"And the only solution was to stand and fight. And my body was loosened. I was set alight. But you came over me like some holy rite, and although I was burning, you're the only light."-Florence and the Machine_

*+*Aderyn*+*

The Saxons stood on the other side of the lake, dirty and covered in thick furs, most of their faces almost covered with facial hair. They were a ragtag bunch, that was certain, at least.

"Hold until I give the command," Arthur said.

One of the Saxon archers stepped forward and took a shot, but his arrow didn't even get halfway to us. I grinned at that. Saxons must not be as good at craftsmanship as they were at killing.

"I think they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said. "Bors, Tristan."

"They're far out of range!" Guinevere said. Arthur ignored her.

Both men nocked three arrows at once, letting them fly. They rocketed across the lake, each one striking down a Saxon easily. Arthur gave Guinevere a smug look, and she reciprocated a glare.

The Saxons, realizing that this distance was going to get them nowhere, foolishly started across the ice towards us. I lifted my bow when the knights did, pulling the string taut.

"Aim for the wings of the ranks," Arthur ordered. "Make them cluster."

I switched my aim to the right flank, narrowing my eyes in on a particularly large Saxon. Arthur shot first, followed instantaneously by the rest of us. Saxons on both sides dropped. Just as Arthur predicted, the men began to pack in closer together in fear of getting picked off. The ice protested beneath us, but we nocked again, releasing our arrows a moment after Arthur.

Saxons continued to fall, and the more that died, the closer the rest moved together. Their leader began to realize what we were doing, and shouted at his men to hold the ranks but fear of our arrows kept them huddling closer. When he started to threaten death upon them, they started to spread out again. We continued to shoot, but they just kept coming closer.

"It's not going to break!" Arthur deduced. "Back, fall back! Prepare for combat!"

I dropped my bow in favor of my sword, concentrating on my anger so that the fear hiding just beneath the surface couldn't shove through. I asked for this, I asked to come. If I am to die here, I will do so with dignity and bring as many of these bastards with me as I can.

An almighty roar echoed through the canyon, and Dagonet, wielding his colossal axe, went running out across the ice without breathing a word of his plan to anyone.

"Dag!" Bors bellowed.

Without a second thought in my mind, I scooped up my bow and quiver and went running after him. I felt Tristan make a grab for me, but the fabric of my cloak slipped through his fingers.

"Cover them!" Arthur bellowed from behind me.

I ran to where Dagonet was breaking the ice with his axe, skidding to one knee beside him and beginning shooting at the archers who were trying to take him down as rapidly as I could. Arrows from the knights flew over my head, adding to my volley.

"Come on, Dagonet!" I encouraged, loosing an arrow into a Saxon's heart. "You can do this!" A bolt hit him, but he barely noticed. "Think of Lucan and the knights and Pagos, all the ones you love! Think of home! You can still make it! You have to keep going!" An arrow grazed my thigh, but I didn't even feel the pain. I was running on pure adrenaline, unable to even feel the blistering cold wind against my cheeks.

Another bolt from a crossbow hit Dagonet, this one knocking him backwards. "No!" I screeched between my teeth, firing off my final arrow.

The knight managed to lift himself to his knees, aiming one last blow to the ice. It finally shattered, cracking all the way to the Saxons, who began to fall into the freezing cold water. Dagonet slipped beneath as well, but I grabbed two handfuls of his cloak and heaved. He continued to sink, no matter how much I pulled. I was starting to be dragged under by his weight, already my arms were completely under as I clutched desperately onto the fallen knight. I dug my toes into the ice and craning my neck to keep my face from submerging.

A hand came from behind me, grabbing onto Dagonet's other side and helping me pull him out. It was Arthur, quickly joined by Bors, holding up a shield to block the arrows being shot at us. We started to drag Dagonet back to the others, but he was so heavy, it was slow going even with three of us. Arrows rained down around us thicker than the worst Briton downpour. My arms were numb from the cold water, but all I could think about was how we couldn't lose one of the knights when they were so close to freedom. Their service couldn't end with such grief.

"Pull back!" Lancelot was screaming. The ice beneath us was beginning to crack too. We were almost to the knights. So close.

Arthur's feet slid out from under him, knocking all four of us over. Dagonet landed on top of me, and I couldn't get out from under his girth.

"Help us!" Bors yelled.

Gawain and Tristan ran to our aid while the other three continued to shoot. Dagonet was lifted off of me and dragged as far out of the shooting range as they could get him.

"Out of the way!" I yelled at the knights, kneeling at the wounded man's side. I began to assess the damage. There were a half-dozen cross bow bolts sticking out of his side. If I left them in, they might cause damage to nearby organs, but I knew removing them would only make him bleed out faster. What was I supposed to do? There was a part of me that whispered that it was obvious I could do nothing, but I pushed it away. I needed to do something, anything.

"Bandages!" I shrieked. "Bring me bandages now!"

A length of white cloth was handed to me, and I put it between my teeth. Placing one hand on Dagonet's chest and wrapping the other around a bolt shaft, I yanked as hard as I could. It came free, but the knight didn't react to the removal at all. That wasn't a good sign. Nor was the blood that spurted up out of the wound like a geyser. I pressed the bandages onto the wound to stop the bleeding, using every bit of my bodyweight to add more pressure. Within seconds, red liquid oozed through my fingers, soaking through inches of fabric without difficulty. That was when I knew that something vital had been pierced.

"Dagonet, stay with me!" Bors was yelling at his friend. "Dagonet! Stay with me!"

Dag coughed up some blood, gurgling as he struggled to breathe. His grayish-blue eyes, which had always looked so sad before, locked onto Bors's, and for once, they seemed content. His chest expanded with breath one final time before stilling completely. I kneeled there, staring in shock at Dagonet's open, empty eyes, unable to believe I'd lost him.

Standing up in a hurry, I whirled away from the body, striding away. It wasn't until I was staring at my hands, crimson with the knight's blood, that I realized just how bad I was shaking. My eyes flicked over towards the remaining Saxons. They stood on the opposite side of the gap in the ice, watching their comrades drown. The leader was glaring at us hatefully, his teeth bared. A man to his right caught my eye, dressed in clothes much simpler than the others and too scrawny to be a warrior for the Saxons who valued size over skill. He caught my eye even from the distance between us, and smirked. And just like that his identity clicked in my mind.

"FACHTNA!" I screamed. "YOU TRAITOR! I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

I started to march across the ice right there, but arms came around my torso, lifting me off the ground and pinning my arms to my sides. I struggled, but they forced me to my knees.

"Don't get within range of their archers!" Tristan hissed in my ear.

"That's him!" I ground out through my teeth, not taking my eyes off of the evil man as he grinned at my reaction. "That's the bastard who caused Drenna's death and shot me! And now he's helping the Saxons! He took part in killing Dagonet!"

"Now is not the time," he responded, too calmly for my liking. "If you get any closer, they'll shoot you. We just lost Dagonet. Do you want us to dig a second grave when we get home?" I stopped fighting him then, slumping towards the ice. "You'll get your chance."

I accepted that, standing up and turning my back to them. There were more important things to be done right now.

/\/\/\/\/\

We put Dagonet in his saddle and covered him with a black blanket. The rest of the ride to the Wall was somber and almost completely silent. It was all I could do to keep it together when I felt like curling up into a ball in bed and staying there for a few days.

The carriages followed us through the gates at the Wall, but only the Honorius's joined us in the square before the Keep. We dismounted, bloody, filthy, and weighed down with grief. We must have looked half-dead to the rest of the world.

Gendry came bustling up to me to grab Egryn's reins, smiling welcomingly until he caught sight of my expression. His smile fell immediately. "What happened out there?" he asked.

I just shook my head, walking around him to watch as Germanius tried to greet Alecto, who kept stepping away from the bishop in an effort to not be touched by the man.

"Lucan!" I heard Guinevere shout. The little boy came dashing towards the Keep. A guard tried to grab him, but Galahad ripped a dagger from his belt, pointing it to the man's throat with a look in his eyes that said not to test him.

Lucan went to Dagonet's body, still atop his horse, and took the ring he always wore from his finger, tears tracking paths down his dirt-covered cheeks. The sight made a lump fill my throat, and my fight to hold back tears became ever harder.

Germanius watched this interaction, and then shook it off, laughing good-naturedly. "Great knights," he exclaimed, "you are free now! Give me the papers!" One of his legion opened the leather box, and held it out. "Come, come! Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman empire!" None of them stepped forward to take them, and his smile began to slip. "Take it. Arthur…"

The Commander went nose to nose with the Bishop, and said quietly, "Bishop Germanius…_friend _of my father…" The Bishop's face turned to steel, and Arthur left, slamming the door to the Keep behind him.

Lancelot was the one to get the papers, yanking them from the box and handing them out to the others. The second Galahad's were in his hands, he walked away. Gawain watched him go, and then looked down at his own scroll, twisting it between his fingers contemplatively. Tristan took his, running his thumb over the surface. I wondered if it felt how expected, or if he wasn't experiencing the emotions he expected to once he had them. I knew I wasn't feeling anything like how I expected to when he was freed.

Lancelot went to hand Bors his, but the man stared right past him, tears filling his eyes. "Bors," Lancelot said. The knight continued to stare off into space, so Lancelot nudged him in the chest.

"Bors," he said louder. He finally looked over, and Lancelot handed him the unclaimed scroll. "For Dagonet."

Bors took them, and remonstrated, "This doesn't make him a free man." He turned to the Bishop, throwing both papers at his feet. "He's already a free man. He's dead!"

He stormed off, and Lancelot was left to pick up the papers he'd left behind. Tristan walked up to the man holding the box, inspected it for a moment, and then lifted it out of the man's grip and grabbed a hold of my hand before heading into the Keep.

Our room didn't look the same anymore. Nothing at the fort did. I unbuckled my sword and laid it on top of the dresser, followed with my cloak. Removing one dagger from my boot, I paused, clenching it in my fist and then threw it across the room so that it embedded itself in the door with a thwack. Tristan put the box and his papers down by my sword, and then left the room without a word.

I headed towards the bathhouse, in desperate need to clean all of the blood from my arms and hands. After seeing it was empty, I used a chair to block it shut so I could be alone. I undressed, and sunk into the water. Finally all my scratches and cuts began to make themselves known. I must have been nicked by more arrows than I thought. I went under the water, and stayed there until my lungs burned. When I reached the surface of the water, I was crying. After that, I couldn't stop. I just sobbed for nearly a quarter of an hour as I scrubbed under my nails to remove Dagonet's blood and ran shaking hands through my hair to untangle it. After I managed to control my shuddering sobs, I got out of the tub. Realizing I forgot clean clothes, I put the others back on to return to my room.

It was still empty when I arrived. I stripped off the dirty clothes and while I was scouring through the dresser for new ones, the door opened. I didn't turn around, not really caring who saw me naked at the moment while my tears were building back up. I found out it was indeed Tristan when his hands caressed my hips and his lips met my shoulder.

"I tried," I whispered.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be."

One tear started to make the trek down my cheek, but Tristan wiped it away before it got too far. I stepped out of his hold to continue my search for clothes, wiping my eyes dry at the same time.

Once I was dressed, Tristan grabbed the box he'd stolen, and we made our way to the graveyard. Dagonet's cloth-wrapped body was already in the ground when we arrived, surrounded by the knights, Arthur, Guinevere, Lucan, Jols, Ganis, Fulcinia, and Alecto. Even Naveen and Elaine were there. The former bolted away from Gawain when she saw me, weaving through the graves until she crashed into me, hugging me painfully tight. I crushed her to me, basking in the familiarity of this. Elaine came up a second later, wrapping her thin arms around us as well. And we stood there like that as the knights all began to shovel dirt over top of Dagonet.

They eventually let me go, and Elaine kissed my cheek. I couldn't even muster up a smile for them.

After the grave was covered, Arthur drove Dagonet's sword into the mound of earth, and lit a bowl of incense to place on top. Tristan opened the box, and Gawain put Dagonet's papers inside, placing it next to his sword.

"Goodbye, old friend," Gawain said, head bowed. "We'll be along soon." Naveen wrapped her arms around his waist supportively, and we all pretended not to notice Galahad crying.

"Gall dod o hyd i heddwch yn haws i chi at farwolaeth nag yr oedd mewn bywyd," I murmured under my breath.

Everyone began to trickle away, one by one. Tristan put his hand on the hilt of Dagonet's sword for a second, and then we started to head back to the main area of the fort. Guinevere followed Arthur, wherever he was going, but suddenly their affairs seemed much less important.

As we were about to enter the Keep, I heard my name being called. Desiderius was rushing towards us, smiling. "Go," I said to Tristan. "I'll meet you in our room." He didn't need to be told twice.

Desiderius finally reached me, beaming. "I just heard you got in. How long have you been back?"

"A while," I deadpanned.

His smile slipped away little by little as I continued to stare at him with absolutely no expression on my face. "What happened out there?" he asked.

For some reason, that question amused me. What _hadn't_ happened would have been a better inquiry. But I figured getting right to the point would get me back to the remoteness of my room faster.

"We lost Dagonet."

"Oh, gods," he gasped. "Aderyn, I'm so sorry."

"We all are," I replied. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling very up to conversation right now."

"Of course you're not," he agreed. "It's completely understandable. But you know, when you do feel like…you can come to me if you need to, is what I mean."

"Thank you," I mumbled. "Bye, Desiderius."

*+*Tristan*+*

The first time I saw Dagonet was when they were retrieving me from my village in Sarmatia. He'd already been traveling with the Romans for days, and it looked like he was having the most trouble out of all the others. His weakness annoyed me. Someone so much larger and older than everyone else should be able to control himself better.

But then we were attacked by rebels, and four of them had me cornered. I wasn't as skilled then, and could never have taken them all on my own. He came to my aid, saving my life. After that, we had an accord that lasted to the very last day of his life. We backed each other up, the two silent observers of the Sarmatian knights.

Now I was the only one.

I stripped off my armor and my weapons, placing them exactly where they were supposed to go. The servants for the Keep must have put fresh water in the basin while we were at the grave, because it was warm when I tested it. I took off my tunic and cleaned myself up. Aderyn walked in and sat down on the bed, that same dead look in her eye from when Drenna died had returned, and I was not a man with enough words to comfort her.

I started to change into fresh clothes, and she removed her boots. "Are you hungry?" she asked in a whisper.

"No," I answered.

"Me neither."

I watched while she unraveled her hair from the plait. It hung around her shoulders, still wet from her bath. The tunic I'd had in my hand to put on fell to the ground, forgotten. I circled the bed until I stood in front of her. She studied me with bloodshot eyes, her lip beginning to quiver.

"Don't cry," I said, kneeling before her. "Don't."

"Am I cursed?" she questioned urgently. "Is everyone I care about going to die? Are _you_ going to die?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You better not be," she growled. Then she kissed me.

It was like we picked right back up from our last kiss in this room before we left on the mission, the first one where we were rough with each other. I pushed her back down on to the bed to lie on top of her, and she tugged on my hair while I pried open her lips with my own. Tongues fought for dominance while I ripped at her clothes, wanting to feel as much of her bare skin as I could. I'd never needed her like I did now, so desperately that she became more essential than air in my lungs.

Her tunic came off, and I kissed and bit my way down her neck, pausing to lick both of the tattoos that marked her as mine, feeling her pulse beat beneath my tongue. The sound of her heavy breathing filled my ears, and her hands tangled in my hair, tugging and scratching at my scalp. I nipped the hollow beneath her throat, and then kissed the scar the barbarian gave her when he shoved a knife into her chest. It was remarkably close to her heart, a miracle that he hadn't even nicked it.

I sat back on my heels for a moment to gaze at her in what I wasn't ashamed to admit was awe. She stared right back, face flushed, eyes alight with expectancy. So many times her life had been threatened, and she emerged from each one. Never unscathed, but alive nonetheless. I put my hand on the spot right between her breaths, able to feel her heartbeat and the breaths that entered and exited her lungs. She covered my hand with both of hers, and we sat there for several long minutes.

Eventually I pulled my hand away in order to slip off her breeches, shedding mine as well before covering her with my body again, trying to convey everything I felt for her into the kiss I placed upon her lips. The wretchedness of before was gone, replaced with something much more amatory, unexpected from both of us.

She sighed an 'I love you' into my ear and I kissed her jaw, and I didn't think about Dagonet or Saxons or anything else. It was just me and her in the world, and I loved her more than ever before.

* * *

**Gall dod o hyd i heddwch yn haws i chi at farwolaeth nag yr oedd mewn bywyd: May peace find you easier in death than it did in life**

**I know you guys wanted Dagonet to live, but I thought it would be unrealistic if they all survived. Sorry, but I like to stick to the plot.  
**

**Chapter coming again next Thursday, as usual.  
**


	12. Don't Say Goodbye

**Crap I forgot to update again yesterday. Sorry about that. Anyway, the****re's an update on profile that's pretty important, so you should all go read it after you finish reading this.**_  
_

_"I know everyone has had their emotions ripped in half, but what I'd like to know is how I should live with your actions, with your absence. Is there something I can do to remove the memories of you? Yeah, I want to believe this will all go away, but I can't now. No, I can't now. Don't say goodbye. Don't say you tried. Don't say that you gotta walk away. Please don't talk this way. Don't say goodbye."-Jamestown Story  
_

*+*Elaine*+*

It shouldn't have ended like this. This wasn't right. The moment they got their papers should have been joyous, made them feel like the weight on their shoulders had finally been lifted. But instead, they had to stand by another grave to mourn one of their brothers. The worst part was that they should have already been free days ago. They'd done all they said they would, they survived, but then that damned bishop had to come and force them to do one last thing. I was not a spiteful person, but I hated that man, hated him like I'd never hated anyone else in my life. Oh, how I loathed him!

There had been no chance to speak to Lancelot yet, but for once, I didn't mind. This wasn't the time to be thinking about such things, when no one had yet even had a chance to properly mourn Dagonet. Perhaps on the morrow, I would search him out, but I would wait as long as I had to.

It was late at night, and yet the tavern was empty except for a couple of our usual drunks. The rest of the Romans were leaving tomorrow, every single one. The final withdraw was upon us. We were to left alone, defenseless out here while the Saxons closed in. No one was going to help us. Running was futile. So I went about my night as normal, working, doing everything to keep my mind off the army on its way.

"Elaine!" Naveen shrieked, running towards me. "You have to see!"

"See what?" I asked as she grabbed my hand and began to drag me out of the tavern. "I'm one of the only two barmaids here tonight! We can't let Mary run it by herself!"

"This is much more important!" she called over her shoulder, forcing me to run after her or fall on my face.

She took me to the outskirts of the city, to the Wall, running up the steps to where Gawain stood with Bors and Galahad. Their grave expressions told me that whatever I was up here to see wasn't good. Naveen dragged me to the edge, and pointed out towards the plane that surrounded the fort. Campfires, thousands of them, burned as far as I could see. Men had erected tents, and there were guards heavily weighed down with weaponry facing the fort.

That was when I knew I was wrong. The Saxons weren't closing in.

They were already here.

*+*Tristan*+*

Bang!

I bolted upright from sleep, ripping out the dagger I kept under my pillow and throwing it towards the intruder with deadly accuracy, already situating myself protectively in front of the girl that was lying next to me.

But it was only Lancelot standing there, the knife I'd thrown sticking out of the wall between his arm and torso. He narrowed his eyes at me as he wrenched it out.

"Lancelot, get out!" Aderyn snapped drowsily, the blanket pulled up to her chin to hide her nakedness.

"You both need to come with me," he said, ignoring our unwelcoming scowls.

"Why?"

"There's something you need to see." His deadly serious tone was the only thing that made me start to dress.

He waited outside until we both emerged, fully-clothed this time, and started towards the outskirts. Aderyn was tightening her sword belt around her waist, muttering mutinously about bastards disturbing her while she slept.

The mutters stopped when we reached the top of the Wall, where the rest of the knights waited for us. Gawain nodded toward the outside of the fort, and I scanned the area. It wasn't hard to miss what was happening. Aderyn cursed in Woadish.

The Saxons were here in the thousands, camping only yards from the Wall. Their breadth stretched as far as I could see, from one end of the horizon to the other, here to claim the very land we were standing on.

"Do you think they'll attack tonight?" asked Naveen, perched on the wall next to Gawain.

"No, they're going to rest up," Lancelot responded bitterly. "Spook the residents and make sure they're nice and refreshed for the morning."

"What are we going to do?" asked the other barmaid, Elaine, I think her name was.

"Nothing," Galahad barked. "This isn't our problem anymore."

Aderyn turned away, looking back out over the fort. A large group of citizens had gathered beneath the the Wall, watching us with supremely hopeless looks. She stared at them, the look in her eyes shifting until I didn't like what I saw there.

Arthur ran up the steps then, Guinevere not far behind him. They both surveyed the Saxons, and then exchanged a look that suggested they were silently communicating. The commander looked away from her, taking his time to study each and every one of our faces before turning to where Aderyn stood. The two of them locked eyes, and I could have sworn she gave him a slight nod.

"Knights," he spoke, "my journey with you must end here. May God go with you."

Without another word, he left us standing there, heading back down to the streets. Lancelot and Guinevere glared at each other for a moment, and then ran after him, the former begging him not to fight tomorrow. It was hopeless though. Arthur had found a cause, and he was not a man to sway easily.

Next to go was Galahad, stomping down the other staircase in the angsty way only he could achieve. Aderyn eventually turned her eyes away from the people to meet mine. Suddenly sorrowful, she turned on her heel, and hurried down the stone steps. I steeled myself, but no matter how much I wanted to deny it, this was happening. I followed her back to the Keep, to our room, and then waited for her to tell me what I already knew was going through her mind. She paced for awhile, scratching at the hilt of her sword with the tips of her fingernails while she gnawed on her lip.

At last she uttered the words, her back to me, "I can't leave, Tristan." I said nothing, so she continued, "This is my land, and there is no one to fight for it."

"And so you will? The great one-woman army."

She spun on her heel, eyes narrowed dangerously. "How dare you mock me! This is serious!"

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, rubbing them furiously. "This is suicide. You cannot really think it's a good idea to fight them."

"They are my people," she insisted. "I have to try."

"Since when have you given a damn about Briton?" I spat. "Has Guinevere been poisoning your mind with her ideals as well as Arthur?"

"Don't start throwing childish insults at me like it'll change my mind! I know what I'm doing!"

"No, you don't!" It was the first time I'd yelled in I didn't even know how long, but this whole situation was bringing out the worst of me. "If you did, you would be leaving with the rest of us!"

"I am not a child!" she screamed. "I'm an adult, and just because you saved my life doesn't give you some sort of ownership over me!"

"I'm not trying to _own_ you! I'm trying to keep you alive! You're just too stubborn to see it!"

"Gods, I am so SICK of arguing with you! It's all we do!"

"Well, when you come up with an idea as moronic as fighting a battle against the Saxons, I think it merits a bit of a fight!"

"It isn't moronic!"

"Yes, it is!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs.

"WELL, I'M DOING IT, AND IF YOU CAN'T RESPECT THAT, THEN I CAN'T BE WITH YOU ANYMORE!"

Those words, more than any of the others we'd yelled at each other, hung over the room like a threatening thundercloud sparking with lightning. Aderyn herself seemed surprised by them for a moment, but then she set her jaw and crossed her arms in a show of being sure of herself. I was not the sort of man who was easily bothered, that had always been true. I'd been stabbed and shot and screamed at, and not even blinked an eye. But I knew I could not watch her ride off into battle tomorrow, knowing she would never come back. It would be my undoing. The answer I was looking for found itself.

"I can't support you in this."

Aderyn kept her expression carefully blank, shifting her weight to one leg and clearing her throat. "Then I guess we're finished."

There were no words I could say, nothing I could do. So I watched as she morphed to stone in front of me, looking so much like the frightened child who'd saved me in the woods. The regression was tangible. With choppy, disjointed movements, she moved her hands to the chord around her neck, lifting the hawk I'd carved her over her head and dropping it to the mattress.

Without even looking at me, she fled the room, and I was left trying not to think about the gaping hole she'd ripped in my life.

* * *

**Short, I know, but I got out what I wanted to say, and I didn't like adding more to the end. It just seemed like the right place to stop it.**

**Please remember to read the update on my profile, and sorry again for updating late.  
**


	13. Fireworks

**I know what you're thinking: this isn't Thursday. I am aware, and I have a reason. I'm writing an original, and I'm absolutely stuck with my protagonist's name. Where else would I turn but to my fabulous readers here on FF? :)**

**A little background to help decide: she's around eighteen, dark hale and pale skin. The setting is kind of a Middle Earth/Alagaesia/Old English sort of place (if that even makes sense), and she's pretty average for girls around there so nothing extreme or too different. Right now I have a few candidates: Bryony, Eyrian, and Abilene.  
**

**So I would be really appreciative if you could drop me a review telling me which one to pick. If you want to, you can even suggest more. I do love options! So yeah, help me out, guys! I'm paying you back with an early update!  
**

_"So this is the end of you and me. We had a good run, but I'm setting you free to do as you want. To do as you please, without me. Remember when you were my boat and I was your sea? Together we'd float so delicately. But that was back when we could talk about anything."-You Me at Six_

*+*Aderyn*+*

The end was so simple, so utterly unexpected in its nature. Out with a whisper instead of a bang with only harsh words to say goodbye with. Truthfully, when Tristan asked me to leave Hadrian's Wall with them when he and the rest of the knights were discharged, it made me think that we would always be together. In fact, I might have subconsciously thought it even before that. All of the plurals we spoke, "us" and "we", they'd seemed so definite, permanent. So when I left the room and the door clicked shut behind me, I half expected the world to collapse around my shoulders. But no such apocalypse occurred. The sky stayed where it should as I walked down the hallway, out of the Keep, and up the stairs to the Wall.

On the opposite side of where the Saxons camped, everything was peaceful as it should be. So deceitful. If someone were to walk on this side and not the other, they would never suspect the danger that was waiting to swallow us whole on the morrow.

Walking the length of the path beneath my feet, I wondered what it would be like tomorrow, to stand across from an army knowing it might just be my last day on this earth. I couldn't even fathom it at the moment, as all my thoughts were oddly sluggish and backed by no real emotions. I was numb from the cold on the outside, but the reason I was so numb on the side was a lot more complex. I almost wished I could cry, to at least get some of that anguish and heartache out now, but not a single tear came to my eyes. The separation must not have fully sunk in yet.

A memory came to mind, one from many months ago when I was still living by myself in the forest. While I'd been hiding Tristan in my house, Drenna had come and noticed how strange I was acting. She'd forced me to give her my palm to do a reading, and had foreseen a great love in my future, one that would end in heartbreak.

As usual, she'd been frighteningly accurate.

There was someone walking towards me, but I didn't pay them any mind. My thoughts were miles away, pondering on what afterlife could possibly be real, when that very same person touched my shoulder. Coming out of my daze, I recognized it was Desiderius.

"Oh, it's you," I acknowledged.

"Yes, that it is," he replied with a smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. "What are you doing up here?"

"Walking…thinking," I answered.

"You picked a good spot. I always come up here when I need a quiet place to think."

"Is that what you're doing now?"

"A lot to think about, isn't there?"

I nodded in agreement, and asked, "Have you and your mother decided what you will do?"

"There's really no question of it," he riposted. "We're healers, that's what we do. And what better place to practice such a profession than on a battlefield?"

"Good point," I conceded.

"My mother's actually with Arthur now, arranging the best spots to set up small medical teams," he continued. "We've already got some volunteers who are willing to help out. Are you staying? If you are, I'd be honored to have you join mine."

"I am staying, but you'll more than likely be working on me than with me," I replied.

Confusion flickered across his face, followed a moment later by comprehension. "You're _fighting_?"

"Yes," I snapped harshly. "And please, don't give me some sort of lecture about being a fool! I'm doing what I know is right, and I am tremendously tired of everyone treating me like some sort of porcelain doll! I was trained by a Woad leader, spent ten winters living on my own with men trying to tell me what to do with my life, and I can tell you what place to shove your opinion in two different languages!"

He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Alright, alright! I get it, you can do whatever you damn well please."

"You're the only one that gets it then," I grumbled.

"Have you…did something happen?" he questioned, looking at me with concern.

I ran a hand through my hair, and turned to lean against the Wall, facing away from the city and Desiderius. "Tristan and I have gone our separate ways."

"Really?!" he gasped. When I glared at him, he quickly corrected, "I mean, what happened?"

"I told him I was going to stand by Arthur in the battle tomorrow, and he couldn't accept that. So I told him that he could either support me in my decision, or we'd be done. He chose the latter, and here I am." Now that I'd spoken the words, the weight of the situation came crashing down on me. The emotionless fog lifted, and the sheer misery of losing the man I loved hit me all at once. Crying came easy this time.

Desiderius put his arm around me, allowing me to lean into his side. "That's terrible," he said softly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry he hurt you."

I laughed humorlessly, tears still coming. "That's just it though, isn't it? He's not hurting me. _I'm_ hurting me. If I could give up my pride and acknowledge that I'm fixing to get myself killed tomorrow, then we could be packing to leave this place forever tomorrow. But I can't. So I'm going to break my own heart and most likely get skewered on the end of a Saxon sword tomorrow."

"We both know that isn't the truth," he retorted. "If you really cared so little about this, then you would be leaving tomorrow. You believe in this fight, Aderyn, and with all the right in the world. What better reason is there to fight for than freedom?"

"Love," I answered, an answer that came from my lips without thought, and yet one that I knew was true down to my very bones.

"You love this land. You love your people."

I did, that was true. But enough to die for them? That wasn't quite clear yet. I rested my head on Desiderius's shoulder while I thought about it, and he laid his on top of mine. His warmth was doing a good job at warding off the cold, so I was in no hurry to move his arm from around me any time soon.

"Not more than Tristan," I whispered finally. "He's stoic and unpredictable and the most vicious person I've ever seen on a battlefield, but he's also ruminative and intelligent and gentle with the things he cares about. Two people like us shouldn't have even made sense, but we just worked, so easy without even having to try. And I loved him more than anything…do love him more than anything."

"But really think about it, Aderyn," Desiderius protested. "He doesn't want you to be the warrior that you are. The sort of man that wants you to sit back like a trophy on a shelf while he reaps all the glory is not the type of man for you."

"What sort you would say is right for me then?" I asked skeptically, wondering why our conversation had taken such a strange turn.

"Well…," he began, cheeks reddening, "I would think someone who can understand that you're a superior combatant and don't need to be coddled. You don't need a protector, you can take care of yourself. However, you deserve to know you're loved, so someone who isn't ashamed to tell you just how special you are. Closer to your age, can make you laugh, understands that you sometimes get confused by social norms because you lived away from society for so long…I think someone like that is who you need."

I scoffed, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. "Where in the name of the gods am I supposed to find someone like that?"

His hand came around to cup my cheek, forcing me to look at him. When did his face get so close?

"Right in front of you," he murmured, and then kissed me.

My shock made me go rigid for several seconds, wondering where in the world this came from. When I finally recovered enough to become responsive again, I pushed him away, taking several steps back.

"Desiderius!" I exclaimed reprovingly.

He smiled serenely. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that."

"B-but…but," I spluttered, "what? Why?"

"Aderyn, I care about you so much," he admitted. "I have ever since you first came here. You amaze me, everything you do. There's no one in the world like you."

"But Desiderius, not five minutes ago you listened to me tell you that I'm still in love with Tristan," I reminded him.

"I know that, but you two are done. You'll get over him eventually, and I can wait. Then we'll be free to be together."

I don't think my mouth could have dropped open any wider. Never in a thousand years would I have seen this coming. Suddenly the look Vanora's daughter gave me in the infirmary that day made sense. So did a thousand other little gestures from this man whom I thought was just my friend. Like the way he hugged me too tight sometimes or the way he stared at me so intensely in such lighthearted moments. Good gods, how long had this been going on right beneath my nose?

"I don't know what to say," I admitted, looking at the ground.

He took my hands in his and waited until I looked up at him. "Say you'll be with me," he urged. "You'll never be lonely or hurt or unloved."

Desiderius really was everything a girl could hope for: educated, handsome, affectionate, and humble, with a good profession to top it all off. His appeal his easy to find, but while he'd been pondering over all of my good qualities, he'd failed to add the bad ones to the equation. I was stubborn, argumentative, pessimistic, reckless, clumsy, unrefined, and those were just some of the things that made us a bad match. Where Desiderius could simply look over these, things, Tristan counteracted them. He made me a better person. Even though this was the end of us, I doubted that there would ever be a time in the future when I didn't love him.

"I can't," I muttered regretfully. "I'm sorry, but you have to realize that things between us could never be as simple as you say. We're not compatible."

"We could be if we tried!" he argued.

"We're _friends_," I replied, stressing the word. "That's the way it'll have to stay."

I had to walk away then, knowing he might try to argue more. I must have hurt him and I was sorry that I had to, but if I wasn't honest with him now, it would just add fuel to his hopes. I didn't want to hurt him more in the long run.

The idea that I'd just lost him as a friend just added onto the weight of the pain I was going through. Losing Dagonet, Tristan, and Desiderius, all in different ways.

I pulled up the hood of my cloak so no one walking by would notice that I was crying again.

*+*Elaine*+*

The tavern would be closed soon, which I was thankful for. There was only one man left, and he was well on his way to passing out, he was so drunk. After he hit the floor, I was leaving. Normally, I'd stay to clean up, but really where was the point in that now? Who knows, Saxons would be the ones drinking here tomorrow night, and I couldn't care less if they sat at dirty tables.

Because fortune clearly was not smiling on Briton at this time, just as the drunk man's face plummeted to the table in sleep, Medea walked into the tavern. The detestable woman sauntered towards me with the usual smirk on her face, and leaned against the bar once she got there.

"Vanora said Damien left my pay here," she said.

I picked up the bag of coins the tavern owner had plunked down on the bar without a word earlier that night, and pushed it towards her wordlessly. She took them out and began to count them, sighing once she was done. "Shame the pay's so little. Fortunately my other endeavors give me far more coin."

"How surprising," I blurted before I could stop myself.

Her eyes flashed with malice as she snapped, "You think yourself so much better than me? I wouldn't trade my life for yours any day, you prude. Besides, both of your little friends are whoring for the Sarmatians, and you don't question them."

"They're not whoring!"

"Don't lie to yourself, Elaine. Why else would Tristan and Gawain be with them? Naveen's a bitch, and that filthy Woad's face is all disfigured." She paused thoughtfully. "Do you know how it happened? I guess it doesn't matter really. She obviously deserved it."

A change occurred in me then, one so sudden that there was no time to question its arrival. Unable to take one more word said against my friends, I slapped Medea as hard across the face as I could. She gasped, grabbing her reddening cheek, and looked at me with such bewildered eyes that I had to suppress a grin.

"Don't you insult them ever again!" I growled through my teeth. "Naveen and Aderyn are great people, and you're just a bitter, nasty whore!"

She gave a tiny little screech of rage, grabbed her salary, and stormed out of the tavern. I stood there, thunderstruck after she was gone, unable to process what had just occurred. It was so out of character for me. Had it even really happened?

"Should I thank you for defending me or ask who you are and where you stashed the real Elaine's body?"

Glancing around, I noticed Aderyn standing just out of sight of the bar for the first time, smiling at me. "Perhaps both," I admitted. "What are you doing here?" She stepped into the light, and I finally noticed the tear tracks on her face and the redness of her eyes. "Addi, what's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong as of now?" she questioned, so quietly I almost didn't catch her words. "Dagonet has died, I'm probably going to die in battle tomorrow, Tristan and I are no longer together, I was just forced to break Desiderius's heart, and I've been crying so hard I've given myself a stomachache."

"Er, you might have to start from the beginning," I requested.

"I hope you have a lot of time," she sighed, sitting down across from me.

Aderyn might not have been in my life as long as Naveen, but we were still just as close. It sometimes felt like she'd always been here, growing up alongside Naveen and I. Thinking back on some of the times we had as children, it was strange that the girl in front of me wasn't included in them. Only a few months was all it took for her to become a fixture in this society, and now there was no "Naveen and Elaine". It was always "Naveen, Elaine, and Aderyn".

"You're one of my greatest friends," I told her. "I have all the time you need."

She smiled down at her hands, and then began her tale.

*+*Aderyn*+*

After my talk with Elaine, I was feeling much better. She hadn't exactly given me advice, as it was a pretty hard situation to solve, but just having someone listen to me without expecting anything in return was nice. Eventually we parted ways, and I was left to wander the streets again, refusing to go back to the room in case Tristan was there.

As I was going past the stables, Guinevere emerged from them, smiling when she saw me. "Aderyn, I have been looking everywhere for you!"

"You have?"

"Yes. There's someone you need to meet. Follow me."

Apprehensively, I followed her toward the Keep, wondering who on earth I was about to be introduced to. Even more confusing, she brought me to Arthur's quarters, of all places.

"Guinevere, what…"

She put her hand on the doorknob of Arthur's study, and smiled as she flung it open for me to head in first. The room looked just as it had when I entered it for the first time only days ago, to beg Arthur to take me on the mission. The commander himself was even in the same spot, sitting behind his desk with his shoulders hunched as he studied what looked like a map laid out on his desk. The only difference was that this time, there was someone standing with him. A Woad wearing the sacred blue paint and raggedy flowing robes of brown and green. He had three thick lines tattooed on the corner of his forehead, and his long, dark hair hung down to his shoulders. In his hand was a staff almost taller than he was, carved with ancient symbols of our people. When he saw me, he smiled like I made his day just by existing.

"Aderyn," he said in a surprisingly calming voice. "How I have longed to meet you, my niece."

"You…you're Merlin?" I asked, surprised. I expected him to look more like Drenna considering Guinevere did, but there was barely a similarity between them.

"I understand your surprise," he said with a chuckle. "I have not inherited the greet beauty of my mother, as my sister and daughter did, but I assure you, I am who I say. And I have been waiting for this day for a long, long time."

"Really?" I asked, exchanging a glance with Arthur.

"Of course, child. My sister did not take a young girl under her wing every day. You are the daughter she could never conceive, and family means very much to me. Not knowing you for so many years is a tragedy in my eyes."

"I'm glad to meet you, Merlin," I said truthfully. "You and Guinevere. I am sorry that it took Drenna's death to bring us together."

"As am I, my niece, as am I. But the gods take who they will, and we cannot condemn them lest we condemn ourselves. Now we are here, and a war is at our doorstep. So I must ask you, do you stand with us?"

"Yes," I answered firmly. "I will fight for my people."

"I hoped you would say that," said Merlin with a proud smile. "It shows just how much like Drenna you are." He looked to Arthur, and continued, "Commander Castus and I have been devising the plans for the battle. Guinevere will be in charge of a large squadron of infantrymen who will charge from the Northwest. We have called you here because we believe you have what it takes to join her as second-in-command."

My eyes nearly bulged out of my sockets. "What?" I gasped. "No, I'm not…I couldn't possibly-"

"Aderyn," Arthur interrupted, "you're fantastic with a sword and a bow, and you have no problem taking the initiative. You showed me you know when to take a risk and put yourself on the line for others. These are all qualities of a great leader."

"But…what would I even have to do?"

"Mostly just back me up," responded Guinevere. "I'll have the right flank, you take the left. Make sure they do as I say. After that, it's mostly just about staying alive."

"The men won't even listen to me!" I protested. "They don't know me, and most of them think it's my fault Drenna died."

"No one thinks that," Merlin corrected. "Fachtna the Traitor is to blame, and he will pay for his crimes on the battlefield tomorrow."

I ran my hands through my hair, mulling their words over. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," returned Arthur.

"I suppose I accept then," I mumbled, almost surprised with myself at the answer.

"Good," said Merlin, pulling out another map and laying it over top of the one Arthur had out. There were red markings all over it. "I took the liberty of drawing up a suggestion for you."

Arthur blinked, turning the paper this way and that to understand what exactly all of the arrows and signals meant.

"Alright. Well," he said slowly. "Let's get started."

* * *

**And the cat's out of the bag. Sorry, Desiderius.**

**Anyway, review telling me what you think, and giving me your name suggestions please! Can't wait to hear what you guys have to say!  
**


	14. Ashamed

**Hah, I bet you weren't expecting this! Yeah, you got that extra chapter earlier this week, and you still get your Thursday chapter as well! Whoop, whoop! It's all as payment for helping me figure out the name for my protagonist, which I have officially chosen. Drum roll please!  
**

**It is...ABILENE! Yaaaaay! Yeah, basically all of you were rooting for it, so how could I say no?! Anyway, the time has come yet again where I ask you guys a favor. Abilene's name is for an original I'm entering in a contest, as you well know, and just like I did last time, I want to know if any of you would like to read over it for me once it's finished. It's still in the very early stages, but I hope to be finished the manuscript by the first week of October. If you'd like to help me out, review or send me a PM. I already have two people who have agreed to help me out, but I'd love to have as many opinions as possible. I'd especially like critique, not just someone telling me how good it is. :P So yeah, if you're willing, just let me know!  
**

_"Do you know what it's like not to know what is wrong or what's right? I've been throwing away the efforts I've made to leave this all behind. Don't feel sorry for me. I have no excuse. I brought this on myself. I, I've felt ashamed for so long. You, you are the reason I go on. I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I went wrong. I'm a player that's aged, and won't stay away 'cause I've been in the game for so long. Another day, another way for me to finally make a change."-Jamestown Story_

*+*Aderyn*+*

I was awake before the sun even rose, brought to alertness by a terrible dream in which a Saxon with three heads tried to force me to kill Tristan. Shaking off the horror, I sat up and stepped out of my borrowed tent to watch the sky change from dark blue to gray.

Absolutely adamant on staying away from my usual sleeping quarters due to Tristan's presence, Guinevere had offered me a tent and a place amongst her people…our people. Merlin, Guinevere, and I slipped out of the gates of the Wall after our strategy meeting with Arthur, heading to the wooded area to the east of Badon Hill, where the battle was to take place today. There, hidden by the cover of the trees, the entirety of the Woad society laid in wait for the battle, eating dried meat and drinking water from the stream. Hundreds of tents and lean-tos were erected around the area, and people of both genders ranging from 16 winters of age to 70 roamed around soaking up the last moments of peace before the battle.

My newly-discovered cousin introduced me to some of the men and women who would be under my command tomorrow, and they took me off guard by welcoming me like an old friend. Even the woman who now lead Drenna's tribe, the one who'd initially blamed her death on me, gave me a nod of acknowledgement when she passed by. I took that to mean that we'd reached a truce…for now at least.

So I'd spent my night amongst my men (funny to think of them like that) while they laughed and drank, all the while unable to get my thoughts off of the man I'd left behind. Tomorrow he was leaving, going gods know where. I would never see him again. The thought was eating at me, and my chest throbbed painfully with every dull beat of my heart.

It wasn't a fair choice to have to choose between your allegiance and the man you loved with your entire heart, and I still wasn't sure whether or not I'd made the right choice. I would only know when tomorrow was done, I suppose.

The camp began to stir around me as people rose to prepare for battle. As more and more warriors edged out of their tents, I left mine to go to the much larger one that belonged to Merlin. As I expected, he was already awake, putting the last touches on the sacred paint as he scrubbed it into his face using a bowl of water to see his reflection.

Without even looking up, he said, "Good morning, my niece. I trust by your weary expression that you did not find sleeping on the ground to your liking."

"No, it wasn't that exactly," I corrected, coming up next to him. "I just had a lot on my mind."

"That knight…Tristan," he guessed immediately, finally locking his knowing brown eyes on me.

"Would it do any good to lie and say no?" I asked.

"None at all," he quipped, standing up. "Before I knew you, I knew your heart, Aderyn. It has become easy for me to read over the years."

"Read…like the way Drenna read palms?"

"Somewhat. Her gift was more about prediction, mine is closer related to unclouded perception of the current situation. That is why I have known your heartache since it first occurred."

"You wouldn't know of any way of solving it then, would you?" I grumbled.

"No, child," he sighed. "Fate does as Fate will. You made the choice to defend your land because you think of others before you think of yourself, an admirable quality. So no matter how this chapter in your story ends, you will be able to say with confidence that you did what was right."

As cryptic as his words were, I was comforted by them. "Thank you…uncle."

His smile was paternal in nature, a strange expression on the mystic's sage face. The tent flap opened, and Guinevere entered, already decked out in her battle attire. The blue paint and swirling green designs made her features more sharp, and the revealing leather outfit she wore added to the fierceness of her appearance. Back when we first found her, she seemed delicate. All signs of that fragility were gone from the Woman that stood before me.

"The catapults must be prepared. I shall leave you alone to paint her, Guinevere," Merlin said, nodding a goodbye to the two of us.

"Paint me?" I asked when he was gone.

She came over, picking up the bowl full of blue liquid that Merlin had been using. "You are one of us, Aderyn. And so you must look like one of us."

"Do I have to take my clothes off?" I asked, chagrinned.

The other woman smiled reassuringly. "Don't be insecure. Nakedness is the natural state of all living things. You are a strong woman, a defender of your people, and you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I cannot believe I'm doing this," I muttered to myself as I pulled off my tunic and breeches to stand bare in front of her. It took every ounce of self control I possessed not to cross my arms.

"'Native outsider'," she read the two tattoos inked on the area below my belly button with a smirk. "How fitting."

"Drenna's handiwork," I responded with a sheepish smile. "Let's get this over with."

Guinevere slathered the paint over almost every inch of my skin, rubbing it in so that it would not fade when I began to sweat. When I was completely blue from head to toe, she took another, smaller bowl from the ground that contained the dark green paint, and used the tips of her fingers to make swirling patterns like hers across my face and arms.

"These signify your high ranking amongst our people," she informed me. "You are a relative of Merlin, third in line to lead these tribes, and second-in-command of the infantrymen. If there actually is any man or woman out there who wishes to challenge you, they will think twice upon seeing these."

I began to blush, hoping that the paint would hide it. "I seem to have moved up in the world quite quickly these past couple days. From knight's woman to third in line for the Woad throne."

"Not really much of a throne," she laughed. "We sleep in deer hide tents and eat a lot of squirrels."

"But better than no title at all," I admonished, pulling my breeches and tunic back on. "I must head back to the fort. I left my weapons, and I need to change my clothes and…say goodbye…"

"Of course. Just try and be back within the hour. The time will be upon us soon."

I nodded, and promptly left the camp, hurrying through the woods with the hood of my cloak up. Although it was cloudy, the chill in the air was not as extreme as it had been. The conditions were good, no snow or rain. Our battle plans should play out perfectly.

At Badon Hill, both Britons living at the fort and villagers from the Honorius estate were setting the oil traps, dumping buckets of the stuff along strategic areas with cloths covering their mouths to protect them from the fumes. I skirted around the very edge of the trees, hugging the Wall and slipping through the gates without anyone even noticing me.

The streets near the gates were filled with people who were preparing to evacuate, but the further I came to the back, the less congested they became. The rest of the Romans were leaving today, so the only defense left to us were the Woads, Arthur, and a small group of citizens brave enough to take up arms. A large population of the city would be traveling along a trail to the South to hide until the battle was done. If someone hadn't ridden to bring them back by dawn tomorrow morning, they were to take it as a sign that we'd been defeated and either head for the coast or relocate to safer areas within the country. Those who weren't fighting or fleeing the Saxons wrath were helping out the various medical teams concealed near the battlefield.

At the Keep, the two ornate Roman carriages that would take Bishop Germanius and the remaining members of the Honorius family to the coast were being loaded down with luggage. The knights would be escorting them, and then boarding ships of their own, back to Sarmatia. Arthur had reiterated this information to me in a clipped tone, unable to speak of his men without anguish on his face.

The commotion in the square made it easy for me to enter without anyone questioning my identity, and there was no one to confront me in the empty halls of the Keep. I stood outside of the door to my former bedroom for over a minute in an attempt to prepare myself for what might be on the other side. If he was still there, I would be as amicable as I could, but I had to remind myself that I was doing what was right. Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob, and…

It was like a completely different room. The only actual differences were the lack of Tristan's armor on the stand and his possessions from the wide open trunk at the foot of the bed, but with those things, his very presence had fled. Had I not known differently, I would have thought he'd never really been here, like I'd made him up inside my head.

Trying to fight past the unexpected pain it caused, I changed into a pair of deep brown leather breeches that were easy to maneuver in, along with a cotton tunic of the same color. After a moment of deliberation, I chopped off the sleeves. Now the tattoo on my shoulder was visible, and upon swinging my arms in full circles, I found the added mobility quite liberating. I would especially need it today.

From my weapons collection, I took a half a dozen daggers, one in each boot and two in the waistband of my pants, and two hanging from the belt that held my sheath. As a last thought, I took the old stuffed toy that had belonged to my sister from the back of the bottom dresser drawer, keeping it wrapped up in the length of fabric for its safekeeping. Slinging my bow and quiver on my back, I didn't take a single glance back as I left the room. There was nothing left here for me anymore anyway.

My next destination was the stables, where I hoped beyond hope I would find Gawain. I needed him to pass a message to Naveen, and I didn't have enough time to locate her myself. But when I walked into my old workplace, I was lucky enough to find the very girl I was looking for standing with Gawain, Galahad, and Elaine as they got their horses ready for the journey. Thankfully, Tristan was not amongst them. The two women were embracing, and they were both crying. I walked over and tapped them on their shoulders. Initially they both flinched at the sudden appearance, but then their tears stopped in their awe.

"Addi?" Naveen asked. "You…"

"Look like a bloody Woad," Gawain finished, having noticed me now. "Gods, woman, you're lucky I didn't kill you!"

"You could try, Gawain," I teased half-heartedly. "And I don't look like a Woad. I _am_ a Woad. I've been in denial about it for a long time, but if it quacks and waddles, you shall call it a duck, correct?"

"Have you come to say goodbye?" Naveen asked mournfully, ignoring my words completely in favor of her sadness.

"Among other things," I admitted. "First of all, I want you to take Egryn."

"Your horse? But-"

"No buts," I argued. "I'm fighting on the ground, so I won't be needing him. And if the worst were to happen, I wouldn't want some dirty Saxon claiming him. So watch out for him for me, and…if I don't make it, just remember that his favorite thing to eat are green apples and he's afraid of spiders and make sure he has a bath every once in awhile."

All of that was said in such a rush, I was pretty surprised that she understood. But she nodded in agreement. "Of course."

"Good, thank you." My tone was beginning to become clipped in my efforts not to lose the fight against my tears. "And Elaine-"

"Don't say goodbye to me just yet," she interrupted. "You'll be seeing me again."

"I will?" I questioned.

She nodded. "I'm staying behind with the healers. I have some basic knowledge of herbs and medicine, so they've put me on a team. Mostly with Woads, but they all seem much nicer than I expected."

I smiled my first genuine smile that day. "I'm proud of you, Elaine."

She blushed, and mumbled. "Well, someone's got to do it."

Next, I handed Naveen the wrapped up toy in my hand, and told her, "Keep this in Egryn's saddlebags. Don't open it just yet, I might be back for it."

"Okay."

"Is Vanora around?" I asked. "I wanted to say goodbye to her."

"No, she has a lot to do to get her children ready," Elaine answered. "They've decided to go to Sarmatia, all of them."

"They have?" I gasped. "When?!"

"When Bors first caught sight of the Saxons over the other side of the Wall," Naveen said. "He's not taking a chance on a win, he just wants them out of this country."

I swallowed nervously, hearing how little faith the oldest knight had in our cause. Shrugging it off, I gave a curt nod. "If you see her, tell her I said goodbye and thank you for everything."

"I will," Naveen said. The she hugged me, saying gruffly, "Just hurry up and kill them all, alright? I'd like to be back home for supper, if you please."

I tried to laugh, but it came out more like a groan. "I'll do my best."

Next I hugged Elaine. When she pulled away she said, "Just know I'll be looking for you out there. Don't…don't be afraid. If anything happens, I'll be there to stitch you up."

"Thanks," I choked, thoroughly touched by that statement.

"Come on, Elaine," Naveen beckoned. "Help me prepare Egryn."

They both went to Egryn's stall, and I took the chance to turn to the knights. Gawain was watching me, smiling through his scruffy blond beard. "Look at you," he chuckled. "Not that same little girl from the forest anymore. Seven hells, I barely recognize you."

"Time does that to people," I reminded him. "You're looking old yourself."

"Ouch," he said, patting his chest. "That one went straight to the heart. However, I'm glad I can still count on you to keep the goodbyes as painless as possible."

"It's still a goodbye though, isn't it?" I asked, becoming serious. "They're never exactly painless."

He nodded in agreement, adopting a more solemn demeanor as well. "Don't die, okay? I wouldn't want to have to come back from the coast to find my woman crying over your body."

"'Come back'?" I quoted confusedly. "Are you not going back to Sarmatia?"

He shook his head. "No. What's really left for me over there? Just grass and horses, and there's plenty of those here. Anyway, Naveen's here, and I belong where she belongs. I suppose I'm gonna marry her someday soon, and being separated by an ocean isn't exactly marital bliss…"

In a sudden wave of emotion, I closed the distance between us to hug him, and he didn't hesitate before returning the embrace. "Don't you hurt her, Gawain," I growled in his ear. "Don't you dare. I swear I will haunt you until your dying day if you break her heart."

"Have more faith in yourself," he replied. "You'll make it out of this alive, and then you can just rough me up if I make her cry."

I sniffed, and pulled away from him. "You're an ass."

"And you're a crazy Woad."

"No denying that."

Galahad bumped Gawain out of the way then, saying, "Stop hogging up all her time, I need to say goodbye too."

"Oh, Galahad, you bastard," I muttered. "I hate myself for admitting to this, but I'll miss you."

"As I'll miss you," he responded. "Who am I going to cuddle when I'm drunk now?"

"A better question: what girl is going to kick your ass in a spar?"

"Any girl!" Gawain answered from the other end of the stables.

"Be quiet!" Galahad snapped.

I hugged him, distracting him from his agitation. He hugged back, and even kissed my cheek when we separated. "Do me a favor and tell Lancelot and Bors goodbye, and I'm sorry I missed them."

"What about Tristan?" he asked.

The curious expression made it clear that the news of our separation had yet to reach the knights. I shook my head. "We…said goodbye already."

His eyes said he wasn't fooled, but the rest of his face remained neutral. "Oh. Alright then. Good luck, Aderyn."

"Goodbye, Galahad."

Egryn neighed when I approached him, nudging his nose against my forehead. "Be good for Naveen," I told him. "I'll be back for you…" _I hope_.

I thought of him as a tiny foal, walking around on wobbly legs and making loud screeching noises of distress whenever I wasn't in his sight. Now he towered over me although he still had the mentality of a juvenile colt. He was my only friend for so long, and now I was faced with the possibility of never seeing him again. Now I needed to get out of there fast, as the tears were rushing forward and I was powerless to stop them.

I patted his snout, and sniffed. "Goodbye, Egryn. I love you, boy."

The sounds of Egryn becoming frantic at my exit weren't helping my fight against my emotions. I could hear him almost halfway down the street.

"Keep it together," I mumbled to myself, swiping at the corners of my eyes to get rid of the tears that had gathered there. I just had to remind myself that there was still a chance I would survive. This might not be the end.

I could make it.

*+*Elaine*+*

Gawain and Galahad couldn't get Egryn under control. He was bucking and whinnying and trying to bolt after his owner. His eyes rolled in fear. He somehow must have sensed the emotion in her goodbye, understood the direness of the situation. It wasn't until Tristan entered the stables, grabbed the reins from Gawain and began to whisper to the horse in a language I recognized with surprise was Woadish that the horse finally calmed and stopped it's hysterics.

"What did you do?" he asked us accusingly.

"Nothing!" Naveen answered innocently. "Aderyn was just here to say goodbye to him, and he went wild after she left."

The man's whole aura became dark at the mention of Aderyn, and he turned his back on us, continuing to soothe the animal. It was his unmissable way of shutting us out, so the four of us left him alone.

"I must go," I finally told Naveen. "Desiderius will be expecting me."

"Be careful," she begged. "Oh, the thought of both you and Aderyn out there is driving me mad! Maybe I should-"

"Don't even think about it, woman!" Gawain cut her off. "You're getting your ass into one of those wagons, and you're evacuating!"

"You can't tell me what to do, you brute!" she protested.

I took their argument as a cue for me to leave, and exited the stables without anyone noticing. I was turning onto the street of the infirmary when I bumped into someone, nearly falling over.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said.

"The fault was all mine, milady." Gods, could it be? Sure enough, I met Lancelot's eyes when I sought out the face of the person I ran into, and he smiled at me with recognition. "I was looking for you."

"You were?" I asked, breathless. "Why?"

He held up my amulet. "I never got a chance to give this back to you. You'll need the protection, today of all days."

The necklace was a family heirloom, worth more than anything I owned on this planet. But there was only one thing I wanted to do with it. "Keep it," I told him.

"I cannot," he objected. "It belongs to you, you must have it."

"If it belongs to me, then I may do as I please with it, and I want you to take it." This next sentence would be bold, but I had to say it. "Perhaps when you are in Sarmatia, you will…think of me when you look at it."

The smile he donned almost melted me into a puddle. He stepped closer, only inches of crackling space left between us. "And why would you want me to do that?"

"D-do I need a reason?" I stuttered, losing all train of thought.

"That too is a question only you can answer."

I couldn't breathe. If I moved even the slightest bit, we would be touching. My own name even evaded me at the moment. All of this time has been leading up to this moment.

"If you insist, then I shall keep it," he admonished, curling the amulet back into his fist. "But only if you allow me to give you something in return."

"Alright," I said hesitantly.

He removed a small figurine from his belt, one that I'd seen him ponder over many times. It was a bear carved from dark wood, it's face worn from all the times his thumb had run over it lovingly. "My sister gave this to me before I left for Briton," he explained. "It's a totem that is supposed to bring wisdom and enlightenment to the owner. It's not much, but…it's from my home."

He was giving this item, so precious to him, to me. "I love it," I answered sincerely, pulling it over my head and letting the totem rest against my chest.

"Perhaps you will think of me when you wear it," he said cheekily, mocking my sentence from earlier.

"I would think of you anyways," I accidentally blurted, almost smacking myself in the forehead after it was out. "Er, sorry, I just…"

"Don't apologize." He swooped down, planting a lingering kiss on my cheek before leaning towards my ear to whisper, "Stay safe out there, milady."

He walked away just as quick as he'd come, and I was left to touch the place where he'd kissed me, unable to believe what had just happened. Lancelot may have had a thousand exchanges just like this one with other women, but none of them had the totem, an artifact so important to him. Even though he was leaving, I would always have this piece of him to keep, close to my heart.

*+*Tristan*+*

Leaving through the gates of Hadrian's Wall for the final time was much less momentous than I expected. Of course, nothing about this moment was what I anticipated. Instead of riding for the coast to get a boat, I didn't have a real destination. And instead of having the woman I loved at my side, I was on my own while she prepared to battle an enemy that might prove to be unbeatable.

It was hard to think about last night. My inability to voice anything I felt really backfired on me. Unable to voice my desire for her to stay, she hadn't, and now there was nothing between us anymore. The knights seemed to have sensed the shift in our dynamic even though I hadn't spoken of it, as none of them mentioned the fact that she was not with us as we escorted the caravan of Romans and evacuees to safety. I was glad for their discretion about the topic, as I felt so on edge I could barely predict what I would do myself if someone needled me about it.

I felt like I'd swallowed a burning grain of sand that was slowly making its way through my body. Aderyn was the only thought in my mind, and the anxiety from leaving her to fight on her own was eating away at my mind. It was worse than when I left her in the forest because this time, it was absolutely guaranteed that she was in danger.

But if she did live, she might even be better off. I knew she wanted to stay at the fort now that she was friends with those barmaids, and since Gawain and Arthur were staying behind, I knew she would be looked after. Hells, it wouldn't even be hard for her to find another man. It was shockingly easy to love her, so easy in fact that the feeling could slip into your heart unnoticed. Maybe she might find a man able to tell her everything on his mind…one better for her than me…. My hands began to choke the reins I was holding, and the leather bit into my skin. I welcomed the painful distraction, unable to think of her with someone else without feeling positively ill with fury.

In front of us was a wagon carrying Vanora and Bors's brood of children. They'd rounded them all up to join the evacuees this morning, placing them in the small carriage to keep an eye on all of the at once. Next to Vanora walked Naveen, who continuously shot nervous glances over at Gawain like he might drop dead if she didn't stare at him enough. In turn, the blond knight kept his own eyes locked on the back of her head. How easy this journey must be for them, knowing their loved ones were heading towards safety instead of defeat.

Smoke rose around us from the fires the villagers were setting in preparation for the battle. Some sort of trick that Merlin had come up with, no doubt. My hawk had landed on my arm after having trouble navigating through the congested skies, and was squawking in an annoyed tone on my arm. She kept squeezing her talons into my flesh, which she normal did when she wanted something. I tried feeding her, but she wouldn't accept the scraps of meat. It was something else, but what, I didn't know. So I ignored the pinpricks of pain, and kept moving.

Something on the hill caught my eye, and I turned my head to get a better look. The figure turned out to be Arthur, decked out in full battle armor atop his horse, his dragon standard in his hands. He watched us go from there, a pillar of strength for the people evacuating. The other knights saw him as well, and all heads turned to watch.

Bors unsheathed his sword and galloped away from us. At the base of the hill, he called to our former commander, letting out our ancestral battle cry. After a short pause, Arthur called it back. The sound was lost on the wind, but the way his horse reared and he shook his standard, the point was made. Bors rode back to us, not speaking a word about the incident. I turned away from the scene, glaring ahead of me purposefully.

No goodbye had been spoken between me and Aderyn. My fault, all of it. I just couldn't wait for her while she went out there on her own, knowing how dangerous all of this was. It finally made sense to me why she begged Arthur to go on our mission with us. The waiting behind was agony.

We broke it off, but nothing had been resolved. The relationship wasn't what was getting in the way, my love and need for her to be safe was. And I still loved her, wholly, so the ending of the relationship had not settled the problem. The thought of her out there was still torturing my thoughts. I never should have let her go.

We rode on, the hills behind us getting smaller and smaller until finally disappearing. Arthur was no longer visible on the hill, and even the impressive form of Hadrian's Wall faded behind us. Every step I took made my regret grow. I was making a mistake…

The sound of drums reached us, and at that same moment, Isolde reared and shrieked, backing away from the road. The other knights appeared to be having the same trouble, as all five of our horses veered away from the trail at the same time, stopping to the side of the halting caravan. I shushed Isolde, patting her neck soothingly. After she was calm, I closed my eyes, and a memory of Aderyn was there, an image so clear it was like I was looking right at her. It was the first time she knowingly told me she loved me, when she'd said she thought I was a great man and not the ruthless killer that everyone thought I was. And here I was, proving her wrong. No great man left innocent people undefended. Nor did he allow the woman he loved to leave without a fight.

I knew what I had to do, and walking away wasn't it.

Looking up at the knights, I found that they had silently come to the same conclusion. Lancelot and I locked gazes, and then I turned to my hawk, clucking my tongue. "Hey," I said quietly, for only her to hear. "You are free." I tossed her into the air, and she took flight, disappearing within the cloud cover. Bors looked at Vanora, and she gave him a less-than-sincere disapproving look, already knowing what he'd decided.

Lancelot nodded, almost as if to himself, and looked to us questioningly. Gawain gave him a brief smile of encouragement, and Lancelot grinned back. Galahad even laughed, patting his horse fondly.

Wordlessly we all dismounted and began to prepare for battle. Because no matter what we wanted to think, this fight was ours. At least this time, we were given the option to choose it.

* * *

**Sososo we're getting closet to the end. Next chapter starts the big battle, and Tristan and Lancelot's fates are hanging in the balance! Hmm, what shall I do with them...**

**DUN DUN DUN  
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**You're just going to have to wait and see. ;) In the meantime, remember to review/PM me if you would like to look over my original for me! It would be most appreciated.  
**


	15. Stand My Ground

**Hey guys! So I'll just get right to it! First of all, this chapter is dedicated to CeffylGwyn who has been brightening my weak with our random PM conversations, lol. She's got some great stuff posted, which you should all go read immediately!  
**

_"It's all around, getting stronger, coming closer into my world. I can feel that it's time for me to face it. Can I take it? This might just be the ending of the life I held so dear, but I won't run. There's no turning back from here. Stand my ground, I won't give in. No more denying, I gotta face it. Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside. If I don't make it, someone else will stand my ground."-Within Temptation_

*+*Tristan*+*

After quickly donning our armor and assembling our weaponry, we, the five remaining Sarmatian knights of the three dozen that had arrived in Briton, rode off for the first battle we'd ever chosen to fight.

At the top of the hill overlooking the battleground, we rode to stand in a line on either side of Arthur. The Commander smiled in a way that suggested he always knew that we would pick this path, and he broke away from the line to pace in front of us, beginning one of his famously galvanizing pre-battle speeches.

"Knights, the gift of freedom is yours by right!" he began. "But the home we seek lies not in some distant land! It's in us and in our actions on this day! If this be our destiny then so be it. But let history remember that, as free men, we chose to make it so!" He withdrew Excalibur, thrusting it towards the sky as he yelled out a battle cry that the men all took up.

We drove our standards into the ground with Arthur's, and I drew my bow, zeroing in on the tree on the other side of the Wall. I pulled the string as far back as I could, sending the arrow rocketing over a great distance and killing the traitor Woad perched in it. Revenge made my bloodlust grow, and I itched to draw my sword and end this battle.

Arthur lead the way down the hill, to Badon Hill, to do just that.

*+*Aderyn*+*

The Woad foot soldiers waited at the edge of the trees, camouflaged by our attire and paint against the trees behind us. Guinevere stood about a dozen yards to my right, her bow drawn and an arrow nocked, just like me. We were waiting for Arthur's signal to begin firing. We'd been unable to see his talk with the Saxon leader, but we knew they hadn't killed him because he'd reappeared on the hill a few minutes after galloping down it. After that, the smoke from the fires blocked him from our view. So we waited for the Saxons to come through the open gates to cut them down from over here.

A great roaring finally reached my ears, and then a group of Saxons about the same size as the ones we faced on the frozen lake came charging forward, spilling through the gates like a great flood of water. I shifted position, anticipation practically making my ears ring.

"Aderyn!"

I looked to Guinevere, who was pointing at something to bring it to my attention. Following her hand to the hill where Arthur used to stand, I found five more standards than there had been before. A great weight I had not even felt before dropped from my heart, and I let out a breathless laugh that sounded more like a sob.

The knights came back. Tristan came back. They were going to fight.

The gates closed with an ominous thump. Our signal. Guinevere and I drew back the strings of our bows. A new vigor filled my blood knowing that Tristan would fight with us, and a vicious smile lit up my face. Guinevere raised her bow to the sky and released her arrow. Her squadron all fired. I waited until the sound of men screaming in surprise and pain reached my ears, watching as the men raised their shields to protect themselves. I aimed for their unprotected backs, and fired. A volley of arrows flew over my head, following my own to bury themselves in Saxon flesh. Surprised by the new angle the arrows came from, the men began to turn this way and that, attempting to decide which way would be the safest way to turn their shields now.

During this confusion, the knights charged through the lines of Saxons, cutting men to bits with their weapons as they rode. After their first attack, my men fired, quickly followed by the knights running in from the opposite direction. Next were Guinevere's men shooting, and then mine again. The plan was to never repeat a pattern, to keep them guessing which way we would attack from next. To them, it was complete disarray, but we had the order practically drilled into our minds by Merlin. If we didn't, we might accidentally end up shooting each other.

"Rhoi'r gorau i!" Guinevere called. I repeated the order so the men too far away from her could hear it, lowering my bow. The knights easily dispatched the remaining Saxons. All except for one, which would be sent back to the leader of the Saxons to show him how very deadly we were. I kept my eyes trained on the gate, waiting for the rest of the Saxons to run through, knowing without a doubt that they would not heed our warning, but I was unable to keep my eyes from flitting to where the knights waited every once in awhile. It was easy to make out Tristan's form amongst them, so familiar to me in the way he moved. I wanted to run to him, tell him I was sorry, and kiss him senseless. I promised myself I would once all of this was over…if we were both still alive, that is.

The ground began to vibrate, the sound of the Saxons shouting made my eardrums rattle. They were coming. I gripped my bow tighter, able to feel the etchings below my hands. The names of my family all along its side: Tatius, Galene, Ursus, Melita, and Drenna, all there to remind me what I fought for. This moment was a long time coming, and it was eerie to find how easy it was to harness the strength I needed to take a stand.

The first man through the gate must be their leader, as I doubted he was the type to stand back while others lead the charge. He was much…thinner than I expected. His blond hair hung all the way past his hips, his beard almost just as long, hung braided down his chest. He didn't cut a very impressive figure, standing next to the other, much bulkier men. To his left, I recognized the bald man who lead the crusade against us at the lake. I thought of Dagonet, and a brief flash of rage made me scowl.

Men kept surging through the gate, spanning out further and further. It was safe to say we were outnumbered again, easily having around a thousand men less than they did. The group suddenly split, half of them heading away from the main group. The bald man we'd fought at the lake came with the group breaking away. The leader headed towards the group of knights, having not noticed us standing much closer. Guinevere and I locked eyes, and nodded to each other.

"Bring the torch!" she called.

A boy with a branch aflame came by, lighting up the tips of everyone's arrows as he walked. At the same time, I caught sight of Merlin's catapults being wheeled up the hill where the knights standards still swayed in the wind. They would be completely concealed from the Saxons by the smoke, which was about to get a whole lot thicker…

Arthur raised his sword in the air, the second signal we'd been waiting for. Guinevere and I fired, a thousand flaming arrows lit up the sky after ours, sailing over to the oil trail that split through the second half of the Saxon army. Cut off from the others, this group was much more vulnerable.

I dropped my bow, sliding my sword from its sheath and pointing it towards the Saxons. Guinevere let out a rallying yell, which I took up with the other Woads, and then we began our sprint across the field. The Saxon men turned and charged to meet us upon hearing the sound, screaming their own strange battle cry. We met in the middle in a wild clash of singing metal and sparks. I raked my sword across the stomach of a Saxon, spilling his entrails across the grass, and kept running forward. The very notion of thought and emotion left me, replaced instead by an instinct to take down anyone who came within reach of my sword. My visuals became choppy, and only flashes of what was happening around me were processed by my brain. A dead Saxon on the ground with half of his skull blackened from the burns of a flaming arrow that hit him in the head, Guinevere caving in a man's breastplate with her sword, the twinkle of light that glanced off my blade as I swung it through a Saxon's exposed neck.

Explosions of fire caught my eye as Merlin used his catapult to hurl balls of flaming hay into pools of oil. Through the haze of smoke, I saw men on horses charging into battle on the other side of the fire trail. The knights had finally joined us.

A man stepped in my line of sight, at least a foot taller than me and outweighing me by a good one hundred pounds, most likely more. He grinned, raising a war hammer as tall as me over his head.

"Say goodnight, little native!" he laughed.

I dove to the side, and the hammer landed on the ground where I was standing only a second before, spraying up dirt and grass. He raised it again, swinging towards my head. I rolled backwards, trying to gain my footing again. This time when he raised the weapon over his head to have another go, a plan formed in my mind. I dropped my sword and jumped forward to grasp the handle of the hammer with both arms instead. With the added weight, it became too heavy for him, and he was forced to drop it. In a flash I took a dagger from my boot and sprung toward the disoriented Saxon, burying it in the space between his shoulder and neck. He gurgled and coughed a spray of blood in my face, and I let go of him just as he fell, taking another man down with him. Wiping the blood out of my eyes, I retrieved my sword and began searching for my next opponent.

Jols suddenly ran by me, holding his broadsword aloft. "You better be fit to work tomorrow!" he called to me.

"Wouldn't dream of shirking my responsibilities, boss!" I shouted back, dodging the Saxon who attempted to punch me while I was distracted, and stabbing him in the gut.

At first, I tried to keep count of the men I killed. Ten, twenty, twenty-five, thirty…. The faces all began to blur, becoming one bitter scowl with a wild beard and long hair. I lost count after forty-eight, and didn't try starting over. It was so easy to take lives. With a simple flick of my wrist, I could slice through a man's neck, spilling every drop of his life's blood. How fragile we humans were.

A blow came from behind, thoroughly taking me off guard. My head ricocheted off the ground, and I saw stars. Feebly attempting to stave off unconsciousness, I looked up at the man who'd hit me. He was even larger than the one with the hammer, wearing a helm with a long tail of black horse hair protruding from the top. His own beard was the same midnight color, scruffy and hanging all the way past his belt. He raised a blood-soaked axe, preparing for the death blow. I was too dazed, and getting up was taking much longer than normal.

But then a Woad woman raced by, chopping at his knee with an axe. When he whirled around to kill her, she'd already run off. Then another hit his other side, vanishing even before he'd turned. I had enough time to stand, things becoming clearer and clearer by the second as I clung to consciousness, furiously refusing to pass out. I grasped my sword tighter in my hand.

Guinevere appeared out of nowhere, jumping on the Saxon's back, shouting as she yanked off his helm. He tossed her over his shoulder, and kicked her in the face, raising his axe to kill her. I roared as I chopped into his back with my sword. The same Woad woman with the axe appeared at my side, cleaving his knees and forcing him down to the ground. Another came, and they restrained him while I stabbed him repeatedly, since he refused to die easily. Guinevere used a thin chord of leather to garrote him until he stopped struggling. I withdrew my blade for the last time, exchanged a curt nod with my cousin, and then looked for someone else to fight.

On our side, things were beginning to dwindle down. Less men to fight meant a quicker defeat. It was still impossible to tell if the battle was leaning in our favor or not, however.

There was a section of the fire that had started to go out, just low enough for me to jump over to get to the more populated area of the battlefield. I ran towards it, leaping over fallen bodies as I went. The very moment I was on the other side of the fire, there was a Saxon there to fight, and I let out a maniacal laugh as he stormed towards me. I stepped out of the way at the last moment, and his momentum made him run right past me, straight into the flames. I could hear him screaming as I engaged one of his fellows.

This man was a bit more skilled than the rest I'd fought. He was on the defensive more than the offensive, and knew when to keep his anger in check. He struck at my knees, I parried. I swung for his right, he parried. This dance continued on and on, growing more and more ferocious as we moved. As I sidestepped to circle him, I stepped on a patch of grass slippery with blood, and fell to the ground. The man laughed at my moment of clumsiness, swinging a quick blow towards me. I managed to roll away far enough to avoid being killed, but he did hit my side with the tip of his sword, slicing through a section of skin on my waist. The pain barely registered, lost in the flow of my adrenaline. I didn't have time to get up, and if I rolled any further, I'd be in the fire.

He had me cornered, and he knew it. He was going to kill me.

In a blur of black, a horse galloped by. Its rider chopped off the head of my assailant with a swift blow to the neck, and then leapt over the highest part of the flames to the other side of the battlefield. I would know that head of curly hair and black-bladed sword anywhere. Lancelot had just saved my life. I would have to remember to tell him I forgave him about what happened with Drenna when all of this was over. That little feud seemed so petty now.

I ran further into the fighting, slicing through man after man. I glimpsed Galahad hitting someone in the face with his shield before my view was blocked. So at least two of the knights were alive for certain, I was happy for that, although I had yet to catch sight of Tristan…

I sensed a Saxon running towards me, but turned too slow to fully meet him. He kicked me in the side with all of his strength, sending me to the ground. My ribs burned so terribly I actually felt the pain through my adrenaline rush. My sword was dropped feet away from where I'd landed, knocked out of my hand by the blow. The Saxon, whose only weapon in hand was a crossbow, prepared to stomp on my head, but I picked up a discarded spear lying next to me, and ran it through him, twisting to make sure he'd die from the wound. Breathing was painful, but I sucked it up, remembering that I'd been in worse pain before. I pressed on, rushing to grab my sword when I noticed a Saxon deciding I would be his next victim.

He raised his sword over his head, leaving his middle completely unguarded. Before he was even all the way to me, I pushed my sword into his chest, and he died before he even hit the ground.

I stared past the dead, and through the sea of fighting bodies, I finally saw Tristan. He was dozens of yards away, and to my horror, I saw he was fighting the Saxon leader. I guessed they must have been at it for awhile by the frustrated set to his mouth. As I watched, they went through a series of maneuvers so fast they were hard to follow, but the Saxon must have got a good blow in because Tristan ended up backing away. The problem was, his sword was on the ground instead of in his hands.

"NO!" I screamed, running across the battlefield at top speed. My legs pumped beneath me, my feet barely touched the ground. That Saxon bastard couldn't have him. No, he couldn't die. Not while I was still breathing.

I had to stop when a Saxon got in my path. He swung an axe toward my head, but I blocked with my sword, using my unoccupied hand to punch him in the nose. He yelped in pain when it crunched beneath my fist, this distraction providing me with enough time to decapitate him with a single swing of my sword. Another man took his place, and I blocked the blow he swung at me.

"Why…won't…all…of…you…stay…out…of…my…way?!" I screamed, punctuating each word with a blow towards the man, which he blocked with increasingly poor precision and a look of mild panic in his eyes at my ferocity. Giving up on swordplay, I kicked him right in the kneecap, snapping the bone. Instead of killing him, I left him there to wail in agony, and clutch his knee, which was now angled in the wrong direction.

I resumed my sprint, ignoring the searing burn in my side and the way every breath made it feel as if I were being stabbed. I chanted his name with each step: Tristan, Tristan, Tristan over and over in my mind. The Saxon was standing over his prone body, the Sarmatian's sword in his hand. Rage made me see red. He planned to kill Tristan with his own sword. And I was too far away.

I let out a screech so loud that it made the leader turn toward me. With no other thought than to stop him from killing Tristan, I took a flying leap, arms outstretched. I came up a little shorter than I meant to, tackling him around the knees instead of the waist like I intended. To compensate for the misfire, I crawled forward, pulling a dagger from my belt and stabbing down toward his head. He grabbed my arms, pushing against me. His thin physique was misleading. The strength in his arms was almost inhuman. He managed to pry the dagger from my hands, but I ducked to avoid the blade he aimed towards my face. The sting went through my shoulder, but I ignored it, leaping off the Saxon before he could strike again. My sword seemed to have disappeared during my big tackle, so I grabbed Tristan's instead. It was heavier and longer than mine and I had to hold it in both hands, but it would have to do. I took up a protective crouch in front of Tristan, baring my teeth and growling almost like a feral dog.

He had the gall to smirk at me, asking in a scratchy, quiet voice, "Young love?"

I just scowled at him. In the back of my mind, I noticed that the fight was dwindling. One group of healers had actually ventured out already, and I could see them tending to some soldiers over the Saxon's shoulder. I clamped back down on my focus, turning every ounce of it onto the man before me. I needed it right now.

"If you would die for love, then you are a fool, girl," he continued.

"As opposed to dying for power?" I snarled. "Like you are about to."

He struck out without warning, but I saw it just in time to block. The impact jarred up my arm all the way to my neck, making my teeth rattle. Gods, I was in way over my head with this one.

I disengaged, sidestepping so that Tristan was still behind me. I would die right here if I had to, as long as he couldn't get to Tristan. The Saxon stabbed forward, but I backpedaled, gnashing my teeth at him tauntingly. The Saxon struck towards my hip, and I blocked it with ease. What I hadn't noticed was the dagger he withdrew from the folds of the skins he wore, driving it towards my other side while I was distracted with parrying his sword. At the last second, I attempted to move out of the way, but it was too late. The dagger was embedded in my calf all the way to the hilt. I let loose a howl of pain, pushing away from the Saxon and staggering backwards. I knew the bleeding would be worse, but I had no choice but to pull it out if I were to continue in this battle. The agony was even worse when it was removed and I yelled again as I wrenched it out.

I couldn't look at the state of my leg, knowing it would just make me lose concentration, so I turned my attention back to the Saxon, holding Tristan's sword aloft again. My legs felt like jelly, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking, making the whole blade tremble visibly. I watched as the leader took note of this and then one corner of his mouth lifted slightly in a smirk.

This next blow would be it. I was weakened, and he knew how to use that to his advantage. Now I was _really_ going to die, and my only solace was knowing that I did so to save the man I loved.

A tall figure stepped up behind the Saxon, slicing through his back in one swift motion. With a look of shock, the man turned around, only for Arthur to cut him across the length of his chest this time. He fell to his knees, beginning to bleed to death quite quickly, but Arthur grabbed him by his hair, forcing him to stare in his eyes.

"Arthur," he acknowledged weakly, and the Roman commander gave him a cruel smile before letting him fall to the ground to bleed to death.

Staring around, there were only a few more fights going on around me, and they were being won quickly. Healers were sprinting out from every corner, using wagons and horses and litters to carry the wounded to their tents. Dazed Woads and Britons alike milled about, unable to figure out what to do next. And just like that it hit me: we'd won. The Saxon leader was vanquished, their numbers decimated, and we were still standing.

And then I remembered Tristan.

I scrambled over to him, awkwardly due to the pain in my leg, grabbing his shoulder and rolling him onto his back. His eyes were shut, and it was impossible to tell if he was breathing beneath his armor. I leaned over to put my ear close to his nose, letting out a sob of relief when I could hear him taking shallow breaths. He was bleeding from a gash under his arm and one on the back of his head and there was a dagger still embedded all the way through his forearm, but he was alive. I started to slap his cheeks to bring him back to wakefulness, deciding right then and there that he was never getting out of my sight ever again.

*+*Elaine*+*

The battle had dwindled long ago on the side of the fire where I was stationed. The Saxons were almost all dead here, so we were given the command to go out and start tending to the wounded.

The things I saw were unlike anything I'd ever witnessed before. I wrapped up the bloody stump of a man's arm where his hand was cut off, stitched up a wound so deep in a woman's hip that you could see her bone, and even held the hand of a man as he died of his wounds. Now it became easy to understand why the knights always seemed so haunted sometimes. If this had been their lives all these years, I couldn't even understand how they managed to smile at all.

After helping a woman with a broken ankle over to a tent to get herself mended, I helped a Woad man named Teak bring a litter out to collect an unconscious soldier with an arrow wound to the chest. As we set him back down on the litter, I saw Lancelot for the first time since this morning. He was fighting a bald Saxon with a blond braided beard. The knight kicked his opponent to the ground, turning to take out another Saxon while the man attempted to get up. But he seemed to notice something off to the side and crawled over to pick it up. It was a crossbow, and he was aiming for Lancelot.

I broke out into a sprint, ignoring Teak's yells to stop and the fact that I was unarmored and unarmed. The bear pendant slapped against my chest, punctuating each step.

"Lancelot!" I shrieked.

He turned to look at me, but he still didn't notice the Saxon about to shoot him. So I didn't slow as I came close. Instead, I used my momentum to ram into him, knocking him out of the path of the bolt. The knight finally noticed the bald Saxon, and his eyes widened. He lunged towards me, opening his mouth to speak.

Something hit me in the chest and whatever Lancelot was going to say was lost as the world exploded in light.

*+*Tristan*+*

The first thing I registered when I began to come back to consciousness was the severe pain. It was pinpointed in several places, my arm and the back of my head were the most severe. When my eyes opened, I was staring at the skies of Briton, darkened by smoke. Aderyn's face appeared, blocking out the light from above.

"You're blue," I told her, noting the Woad paint she was donning.

She laughed breathlessly, and then winced. "Is that really your first thought?"

I chose to ignore that. "Are we alive?"

"Yes, we are. We've won. The Saxons are dead."

"The leader?"

"Arthur killed him."

I only grunted at that, frustrated that I hadn't been the one to kill him myself. If the bastard wasn't a cheap fighter, I would have been able to.

"I'm going to get you a healer," Aderyn informed me. "Stay put."

"Like I have a choice," I muttered darkly as she limped off to get someone.

The pain was beginning to become overwhelming, and black spots danced across my vision again. I had to work to keep my eyes open, but I refused to go back under. It was bad enough that I was wounded in the first place. Aderyn returned with two Woads following her, carrying a makeshift litter between them. They laid it next to me, and prepared to lift me onto it. When they moved me, the pain increased terribly, and I had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood so I wouldn't cry out.

"You can sleep now, Tristan," Aderyn whispered. "It's all okay now. We're alive."

I blinked, but my eyes wouldn't open back up. Sounds began to fade and I could feel sleep overcoming me, but I managed to hang on long enough to say, "You are never leaving me again."

"Likewise," I heard her response as if from far away before I succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

**Rhoi'r gorau i: Stop**

**So the battle is over! There's only two chapters left, I believe. It's so weird to think I'm already so close to the end...wow. This story has been like two years of my life, lol. I'm just really appreciative to those of you who tell me how much you love this. It means a lot. So thank you, and yeah, review, review, review! Until next time... :)  
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	16. Lost in You

**Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter before the end. I can hardly believe it, ahh!**

**To my reviewer Kate, thank you for your kind words! I'm just sorry I made you lose so much sleep! :)  
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**So there's not really much else to say, I'll just let you get to the reading!  
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_"I always knew that you'd come back to get me. You always knew that it wouldn't be easy to go back to the start, to see where it all began, or end up at the bottom to watch how it all ends. You tried to lie and say I was everything. I remember when I said I'm nothing without you. I'm nothing without you. Somehow I found a way to get lost in you. Let me inside. Let me get close to you. Change your mind. I'll get lost if you want me to. Somehow I found a way to get lot in you."-Three Days Grace_

*+*Tristan*+*

In my dream, I was fighting the Saxon leader once again. Everything proceeded as it had the first time, except I didn't black out after he shoved the dagger through my forearm. I was paralyzed as Aderyn attacked him with all the ferocity of a rampaging bear, lunging at him again and again. It still wasn't enough, and he soon disarmed her and forced her to her knees. Grabbing her by her hair, the Saxon forced me to watch while he cut her throat.

Waking in a cold sweat, I moved to sit up. Two small hands were placed on my chest, forcing me back down. Aderyn's face was hidden in shadow, but I knew without a doubt it was her next to me. Perched on the edge of my bed by my legs hugging her knees, she seemed especially small.

"Don't sit up," she ordered in a whisper. "You might rip your stitches. Everything is alright. You're in the infirmary."

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Like I told you, we won," she replied. "Arthur killed the Saxon leader. You've got a row of stitches in your right underarm, some in the back of your head, a few stab wounds in your abdomen area, and you'll have trouble with your right hand for awhile. The dagger might have ruined some of your nerves. The healers said you should gain full mobility back though."

"The knights?"

"All a bit worse for wear, but alive," she said. The tightness of her voice was impossible to miss. Something was wrong.

"What's wrong?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and whimpered, "Elaine is dead."

"How?" I asked, running my fingers over her leg. She grabbed the hand, and held it in her lap.

"She was helping the healers, and she saw the Saxon with the bald head we fought on the lake about to shoot Lancelot. So she ran to push him out of the way, but she put herself in the path of the bolt. It struck her in the heart, there was nothing they could do. Naveen found out a few hours ago when the evacuees were brought back, and she hasn't spoken to anyone since. She's locked up in Gawain's room."

I forced myself to move upright, ignoring Aderyn's protests and slapping her hands away when she tried to force me back down. Once I was up, I tugged her towards me, and she gave up her struggles once I had my arms around her. She rested her forehead against my shoulder and started to shake with silent sobs. I just held her, unable to formulate any sympathetic words.

After several long minutes, she calmed back down and shifted to press her lips to my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I never should have forced that ultimatum on you. I was so very wrong."

"Doesn't matter anymore," I murmured.

"Does this mean you'll take me back?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I'd like to see you try and get away again," I growled.

She laughed, but stopped quickly, clutching her side. In answer to my questioning glance, she said, "Broken ribs. Hurts to laugh."

"Then why are you up? You should be resting."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. But now that I am certain you're not going to die, I think I will try to sleep."

Aderyn unfolded herself from me, slowly shifting to lay her head on my pillow. I laid down behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her until her back was pressed into my chest. She hummed in contentment, nestling into a more comfortable position, and with her next to me, it was easy to fall into a dreamless, restful sleep.

*+*Aderyn*+*

As days went by, the body count rose steadily higher. A group of Wall citizens were found in a gory mess of body parts around the side of the Keep, Medea among them. Apparently they didn't want to evacuate, thinking they could just wait out the attack, but some Saxons managed to slip into the city and slaughter them before being killed themselves. Severina was shot by a Saxon and died the day after the battle. Thankfully no one else I knew personally was killed, but that didn't mean that the losses didn't weigh heavily on my mind.

On the day after the battle, pyres were erected on Badon Hill, and the dead Saxons were piled on top of them to burn the bodies. No one stayed to pay them their vigil, but the scent of so much burning flesh could be smelled all the way in the infirmary. The day after that, the Woad soldiers were buried in a mass grave deep in the forest. I left Tristan to attend the ceremony, as it was customary for commanders and their seconds to send off their soldiers with words of peace. No people other than the relatives of the dead and the leaders were allowed to attend, but Arthur was there, standing next to Merlin in respectful silence. There was something going on between the leader of the Woads and the Roman commander, but he had yet to tell us what.

In the early hours of the third morning, I stood in a room in the back of the Keep, empty except for a single bed. It was used to prepare the dead before their burial. Dagonet had lain here, and so had Severina, before their respective burials. And now Elaine's was the body on the bed, her eyes peacefully closed, her arms crossed over her chest. Naveen was already here last night to wrap her, but had become too emotional and couldn't finish her torso. I was here to finish the job, but my hands were shaking so terribly I'd only gotten to her shoulders before I couldn't continue any longer.

How could, of all people, sweet, innocent Elaine, be dead? So impossible, but here she lay, proof that she wouldn't come walking through the door at any moment with a soft smile and a song on her lips. How many times had she warned me to be careful? Hundreds, and yet she was the one who ran across an active battlefield. In an aesthetic way, I understood why she'd done it. Hadn't I done the very same thing to get to Tristan when I saw him losing the fight with the Saxon leader? The only difference was that I was armed and had combat experience. That didn't mean I wouldn't have done the very same thing I had the first time even if I was untrained like Elaine was. So I could recognize her reasoning, but I was still so angry at her for doing something so foolish. My time was spent conflicting over these two emotions as I leaned against the wall trying to gain back the determination to continue her wrappings.

When the door opened, I jumped, startled, but it was only Lancelot that edged into the room. He walked right over to the side of the table she laid on, and stood there with his head bowed. He looked exhausted, the worst I'd ever seen him. By my guess, I'd say he hadn't slept much these last few nights.

"She could sing," I spoke up, making the knight start and whirl around to face me. "And bake. She was always too nervous to stand up for herself, but she slapped Medea in the face once for calling me a whore."

Lancelot looked down, pulling a necklace from his pocket. I recognized it as something Elaine used to wear a lot. "She gave this to me," he said quietly. "She said she wanted me to be reminded of her when I was in Sarmatia." He laid the necklace on her chest. "She has a lovely face... You know, I never even knew her name."

"It was Elaine," I revealed, "and she was in love with you."

"How?" he inquired, shaking his head slightly when I came to stand next to him. "I only spoke to her a few times."

"I don't really know. She saw something in you that was…irreproachable."

"Elaine," he repeated the name to himself. "She saved my life."

"To her, that was worth dying for."

He cleared his throat brusquely, mumbling, "She should be buried with that. She said it was her grandmother's."

"No," I disagreed, handing the amulet back to him. "I know her, she would have wanted you to keep it. She gave it to you in the first place." When he looked like he might argue, I curled his fingers over the necklace, pushing him away. "Take it, and go. I have to finish this. They'll be coming for her body shortly."

Lancelot turned on his heel to walk out, but I called his name before he closed the door behind him, and he paused to hear me say, "Any quarrels between us are over. It's idiotic and petty of me to continue this any longer. I forgive you, for everything."

"I'm glad to hear it," he responded without turning.

After he was gone, I picked up the cloth to begin wrapping her up again, catching a last glimpse of my friend's face before it disappeared forever.

/\/\/\/\/\

Elaine was buried next to her parents in the cemetery for citizens of the fort. Gawain attended but had to lean heavily on a crutch to keep himself upright. He was still weak after being shot in the chest by a Saxon during the battle. Naveen stood between him and I, her eyes bloodshot and hollow. I held her hand and allowed her to lean her head on my shoulder. Clamping down on my sadness, I didn't allow a single tear to escape my eyes. I couldn't fall apart when Naveen was relying on me to be the strong one. Galahad stood on my other side, allowing me to squeeze his hand as tight as I needed to to keep myself in check.

Other than the four of us, the only other attendees were Naveen's parents, a gaunt Desiderius, Vanora, and Lancelot, who stood far back from the rest of us, watching the proceedings with an expression he kept careful control over. After the last shovelful of dirt was patted down on the grave, he turned and walked away as fast as his legs would carry him.

Naveen's parents came to speak with her and Gawain, and Galahad and I began to make our way back to the city to give them some privacy. I was still limping from the pain of the wound the Saxon leader had dealt to my leg, which never ceased to aggravate me. Galahad slowed to match my pace, one hand on my arm to keep me steady, considering I walked as slow and unstably as an old crone.

On the trail that lead through the graves, I caught sight of Desiderius standing next to a different grave, a fresh one that had to be his mother's.

"Galahad, I'm going to go talk to Desiderius," I said.

"Alright," he allowed hesitantly. "But hurry up and get back, or Tristan will kill me for letting you go around on your own when you're all banged up."

We went our separate ways, and I prepared myself mentally for what was sure to be an awkward exchange. Once Desiderius heard me approaching, he turned and then hurriedly began to wipe away his tears.

"What are you doing here?" he asked dully.

"I never had a chance to extend my condolences," I said softly. "I really am so sorry about your mother. I wanted to come to her burial, but-"

"It's best that you didn't," he interrupted.

I placed a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm concerned about you. How are you handling all of this?"

He drew in a shuddering breath, shaking his hair back out of his face. "I don't really know. Hard to even believe all of this is real, honestly. I'm the head healer, now. Which is nice…or it would be if not for the circumstances. At least all of the work keeps my mind from wandering off. I keep remembering when I was little and I would come home crying when the other boys wouldn't let me join in their games, and she would always say I was just too advanced for them. 'They can't understand the educated, Desi. Don't listen to them. You're special, and someday everyone will realize it.' That woman. She was a mean old bat towards the end, but she was still my mother and I loved her."

"Of course you did. You can't be blamed for missing her. Gods, I spent the better part of ten winters grieving for my family, so allowing yourself this time isn't anything to be ashamed of."

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shifting an edgy glance to me. "I am sorry about what happened between us before. I knew you were still in love with him, I shouldn't have pushed you like that. Even if you don't feel the same way, I still want to be your friend. It would be absolutely iniquitous of me to deny you as a companion just because I'm embarrassed."

"Oh Desiderius," I chuckled, "did you think I'd stopped considering you one of my dearest friends just because of that? No way. I'll always be there for you, you should know that. Unless you do something truly heinous, of course. Like…kicking a puppy."

"Only you could make me laugh at a time like this," he chuckled. "Ever the cheerer you are."

"I have a feeling I'll become ever the legless soon if I don't get back to the infirmary," I winced. "My calf is killing me."

"Oh, you should have reminded me!" he scolded. "Come on, let's get you back to the fort! You lunatic, wandering around on an injury like that! Wait, you have broken ribs too, don't you? Don't you?!"

I laughed as he put an arm around me, taking most of my weight on himself as we began to trek back down the path to the fort. "There's the Desiderius I adore, forever the mother hen."

"I'm not a mother hen!"

/\/\/\/\/\

A week after Elaine's funeral, Tristan and I were both being officially dismissed from the infirmary on the same day. He was still having trouble getting his hand to work just the way he wanted, but since that wasn't anything life-threatening, Desiderius was letting him go.

Gawain was also let go today, the only other knight who'd spent any extended time in the infirmary. Naveen had finally emerged from Gawain's room for the occasion, and had fussed over the state of her knight's health while he batted her away like a bothersome fly until the two of them left an hour ago. I was glad to see them together after all this time, especially since he was taking her mind off all the tragedy around us as of late.

"Gods these things itch," I told Tristan, fidgeting so I wouldn't scratch the area on my side where I had some stitching.

"You're about to get them out," he reminded me, testing out the mobility in his wrist again.

"Can't you ever just let me complain without being rational about things?" I grumbled.

"No."

"Great help you are. Maybe I should have chosen a man more on the genial side. Like…Galahad."

Not having realized the aforementioned knight had just arrived in the room, I groaned when he spoke up from behind me, "Now that's what I like to hear! I'm available any time you'd like to make that switch." Tristan withdrew a dagger from under his pillow, stabbing it into the bedside table threateningly. The younger knight just chuckled. "Calm down, Tristan. I'm only joking."

"Better be," he muttered dangerously, withdrawing his blade and hiding it away again.

"Alright," Desiderius said, coming towards me with a dagger in his hand. "Let's see those stitches."

I laid on my side and lifted up my shirt so he could start taking them out. As the tugging sensation in my skin began, I glowered at Galahad when I caught him staring at my exposed abdomen with a tiny smirk on his lips. "Galahad! Stop it!"

"Well, since I'm here I might as well enjoy the view!"

"Why _are_ you here? Just to be a pest?"

"As a matter of fact, this visit is purely business," he objected. "Arthur has called a meeting in the Fortress Hall."

"Well, go on then," I said. "Tristan was just waiting for me anyway."

Galahad shook his head. "No, not just him. I'm supposed to bring you back too."

"Me? Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Arthur just told me to gather you two for the meeting, I didn't ask why."

"Done!" Desiderius announced. "Remember to come back next week to get the ones out of your leg."

"Like I could forget that," I scoffed, sitting up and pulling my shirt back down. "Ready to go then?"

I bid Desiderius goodbye, and then followed Galahad to go to the meeting. I wondered why I was summoned along with the knights. Honestly I was just hoping it was nothing bad. The citizens of the Wall were struggling to pick themselves back up now that the Romans were gone. We had no goods coming in, no established trade, no guards on the Wall, and barely any business for the merchants and businesses because of how poor everyone was. We were trapped in a vicious cycle, one that no one was taking any steps to solve.

In the Fortress Hall, the other four knights and Arthur were there, along with Merlin and Guinevere on either side of Arthur. Jols and Ganis were there too, taking up two seats in the gap between Lancelot and Galahad's seats. Tristan and Galahad went to their established places, but I remained near the door.

"Galahad said you called for me?" I queried.

"Yes, I did," Arthur reiterated. "Please, take a seat. There is an announcement to be made."

I shuffled over to the spot on Tristan's right and sat down, leaving only one chair between Gawain and I. Thankfully everyone in the room looked just as puzzled as I did, the only exceptions being Merlin and Guinevere.

"As you know," Merlin began, "Rome has finally left Briton. The purpose my people have fought for has finally been realized. Though we could not be more overjoyed to have our freedom again, we find ourselves without a leader."

"What about you?" Ganis asked. The man seemed to have a penchant for blurting out the question everyone in the room was thinking but didn't feel right actually voicing.

"I lead the Woads in our time of crisis, yes, but I am no monarch. Guiding the true king is my foretold purpose."

"And who do you say this 'true king' is?" inquired Lancelot.

"Arthur," he answered, as if it were so simple that he couldn't even believe he had to spell it out for us.

A stunned silence enveloped the pause after his response as everyone let that sink in, exchanging meaningful glances.

"And…you agree with this, my lord?" asked Jols.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. "This land has been my home my whole life. I spent so many years dreaming of how perfect Rome would be when I finally reached it that I didn't see what I had right in front of me the entire time. Now that I have had the blinders removed from my eyes, I know that this is where I belong, and since there is no one else stepping up, I will."

"So, what?" Galahad scoffed. "You're just going to forget everything you've waited fifteen years for to become King of the Woads?"

"No," Guinevere objected. "Arthur will be King of Briton. Now that the Roman menace is gone, there is no need to distinguish between the Woads and the others from this land. We are all just Britons now."

"Does that mean you're going to stop painting yourselves blue too?"

Gawain smacked Galahad in the back of the head, and I shot him a dark look. "What?" he asked innocently. "I just don't see how this is going to work. Do you plan to just start calling yourself King Arthur and hoping everyone goes along with it?"

"Once I have declared Arthur king, the complicated parts start," Merlin clarified. "For him to be acknowledged as king, we must reach out to our neighbors around the country to spread the word. We will offer resources and protection in exchange for allegiance and use of their armies."

"What do you plan to do when diplomacy fails?" Bors asked, one eyebrow arched. "Because it will at some point, even if you get lucky with the first couple of provinces."

"I've found that subtle threats always get the point across," Merlin answered breezily. "If they refuse, we can simply remind them that our military recently defeated the biggest Saxon horde ever seen on this side of the sea."

"Of course, that will always be saved as a last resort," Arthur spoke up hastily. "I would like to start my reign with as little bloodshed as possible."

When Arthur spoke of his reign, it all sounded more real, and was surprisingly easy to picture. The half-Roman was a good man and an even better leader. At first, this sounded rather insane, but when I really thought about it, he was a perfect candidate for king. He was just and loyal, and I had no doubt the people would love him. I'd never met a man better at rallying a crowd. His silver tongue could surely sway people to his side.

"I think it's a good idea," I spoke up, breaking the contemplative quiet that had fallen over the room. "When you think about it, it's better than having a bunch of incompetent men start dividing the country up for themselves. We know Arthur, and we know his values. Who better for the job?"

"Thank you, Aderyn," Arthur said humbly.

"I've always said you're too noble for your own good," Lancelot jested, smirking.

"'King Arthur' does have a bit of a ring to it, doesn't it?" Gawain added.

"Gods, are we all about to agree that Arturius Castus should be King of Briton?" Bors laughed. "This day is certainly taking a turn I didn't expect!"

"So how are you going to start this out?" Lancelot questioned. "Just walk up on the Wall and make a speech?"

"Before we get to that, I have something I must ask all of you," Arthur began, tone suggesting he felt uncomfortable with the question. "The real reason I gathered the eight of you here was to ask who among you plan to leave this land. It is understandable if you still crave your homeland, and I will not attempt to stop you if you walk away."

"Well, you already know I'm not going nowhere," Bors pointed out.

"I'm staying as well," Gawain spoke up. "I reckon I wouldn't even know what do with myself without my axe in my hand. Might as well stick to what I know at this age."

"I'm with Arthur," Ganis said decidedly.

"Well, where do you really think I'd go?" Jols said sarcastically. "Been here all my ruddy life anyway."

I turned to Tristan, using my eyes to silently ask him what he wanted to do. He traced some scratches in the arm of his chair with his forefinger, staring back at me thoughtfully. I wanted to stay, but if Tristan was still dead set on leaving, I would go. By his expression, I assumed he knew that.

"I will stay," he finally declared, just loud enough for the others to catch his words.

I smiled at him as I announced, "Me as well."

"Galahad…Lancelot?" Arthur asked, looking between the two men who remained silent on the issue. Lancelot was staring fixedly at one spot on the table, his eyebrows stitched together like he was thinking very hard. Galahad, however, was looking around at the rest of us. I knew the youngest knight wanted so badly to see his homeland, but now that almost everyone had decided to stay in Briton, he was having second thoughts. Lancelot was as impossible to decipher as usual, so I didn't even attempt to guess what was going on in his head.

"If you need time to make a decision, you may have it," Arthur told them. "I do not want to force your hand either way."

"No," Lancelot said, shaking his head, "I don't need time. I know what I wish to do."

"And what is that?"

"All of these years, we have been by each other's side. You have been a friend to me more than any man on this earth. That is why I will stay."

Arthur might have said he was impartial to the knights' decision, but it was hard for him to stop from beaming when Lancelot said he'd stay. He bit back his happiness as best as he could, and turned to Galahad.

"Do you wish for a night to think over your decision?" he asked.

Galahad rubbed his hands over his face, leaned back in his chair, and shook his head. "Can't really go now that everyone's staying, can I?"

"Of course you can," Arthur disagreed. "This is your choice, don't let anyone else's decide your fate."

"Oh, shut up, your majesty!" Galahad said, beginning to smirk. "We're brothers in arms, did you forget? We stick together, through sweat and blood."

Bors cheered for that, banging his fists on the table. Arthur smiled and dipped his head in agreement. "Very well then. Tomorrow morning, during market, I will make the announcement to the people."

"We will be there to back you up," Lancelot promised.

"Good," Merlin replied. "Tell no one else of this. Word must not reach the people before we make the announcement. You are dismissed."

The knights seemed less than thrilled about being told when to go by the former Woad, but began to stand up nonetheless. Tristan and I veered off from the group and headed towards the stables instead of the tavern.

On an unspoken agreement, we both saddled up our horses, and rode out through the front gates. We passed the blackened patch of land that was Badon Hill, scorched beyond recognition by the fires. The blood was finally washed away by rain, but we would be forced to wait for spring before the area would return to the lush green we were used to.

Grinning, I looked over to Tristan and winked when he caught my eye, digging both knees into Egryn to spur him ahead. Tristan attempted to keep up with me, but Egryn blazed over the ground almost like he was flying. I let out a breathless laugh, wishing things could always be like this.

Dagonet, Elaine, and Severina were gone, and right now my entire country was on unstable ground. But in that moment, those thoughts just faded away, and I was able to look forward to my future.

* * *

**I'm surprised that a lot of you didn't realize that Elaine was going to die. Only one or two of you caught "The Lady of Shallot" reference, lol. I loved her character, but that's how the legend goes, my friend.**

**Next Thursday will be the epilogue! Until then, review to tell me what you think!  
**


	17. Best Is Yet to Come

**So here we are, at the final chapter of a project that has taken me nearly two years. I feel like I'm saying goodbye to good friends or something, it's so weird. But anyway, I couldn't have done this without all of your encouragement, so this entire fic is dedicated to everyone that read/reviewed/alerted it because I may have written this but it wouldn't have gone anywhere without you. Thank you so much for your love and kind words. This one's for you!**

**Oh, and as a side note, I changed the location of the Arthur/Guinevere wedding because there was an aspect of it that kind of conflicted with something in my plot. :P  
**

* * *

_**"When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence. I see in you that part of me which is you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, we share the same madness."- **__**Anaïs Nin**_

_"I won't turn around. Let it all slip away. I'm never backing down 'cause tomorrow's a new day, and everything can change. And after all that we've been through, and after all we left in pieces, I still believe our lives have just begun. 'Cause now the past can be outrun, and I know you are the reason I still believe the best is yet to come."-Red_

**(EIGHT MONTHS LATER)**

*+*Aderyn*+*

For what felt like the thousandth time, Tristan fidgeted, making the needle I was using to stitch up the hole in his tunic sleeve to miss its mark.

"Stop it!" I scolded, slapping his shoulder. "We only have a few minutes before we have to leave!"

"Just leave it then," he grunted uninterestedly.

"You want me to just leave this gaping chasm to flap in the wind? Tristan, this is a _wedding_. It's _formal_."

"Arthur won't care."

"I care. Hold still."

I began stitching again, eyes zeroed in my work with every ounce of concentration I possessed. An hour ago I'd pulled out Tristan's best shirt, a deep blue one that had not a single rip or stain, and forced him into it for Arthur and Guinevere's wedding. Ten minutes ago, he reappeared in our room with this hideous tear, claiming a branch had clipped it while he was riding.

"Why did you even get the sudden urge to ride anyway?" I questioned, tugging on the thread. "Or was it just irking me that appealed to you?"

The corner of his lips twitched, but he didn't dignify the question with a response. I purposely gave him a nice jab with the needle the next time I pulled it through the fabric as payback. His smirk only widened.

Finally I finished the repair, but couldn't help but feel mournful for the last of his unmangled tunics. Sighing, I returned the needle and thread to a box I kept on top of our dresser. For the first time since Elaine's burial, I was back in a dress. It was hard to believe that eight months had come and gone, but summer was upon us again. Badon Hill had returned to its former splendor just in time for the king's wedding.

The king. No matter how many times I referred to Arthur that way, I doubted I would get used to it. I must have been the only one though, because the citizens of the fort accepted Arthur immediately. That day on top of the Wall, the knights, Jols, Ganis, and I all stood behind Arthur and Merlin as the half-Roman gave his speech, declaring himself king over Briton. The people had cheered once he was done, and just like that, he was "your majesty" whenever they addressed him. Lancelot still couldn't stop snickering whenever someone bowed before his old friend.

Reconstruction was still underway. We were building up the fort, and even adding buildings outside of the walls to accommodate new citizens. Actually, it wasn't called the fort anymore. Now it was "Camelot", a name Merlin came out with one day, saying that it was whispered to him in a dream. The people, so willing to call Arthur their king, also readily embraced the new name. I think it helped them feel as if this was now an official city rather than an old military base.

Arthur's kingdom extended more and more every day. So far we had a good portion of villages in the South accepting him as their true king. Merlin had thought it best to start with the easily-bought lords, that way we could add their military forces to our own so we had a better chance at "persuading" the difficult ones to our side. Arthur still seemed unsure about threatening people, but we all knew it would have to come to that, though it hadn't so far. People loved Arthur, and they wanted someone good to lead them. They acknowledged that there was no logical reason to refuse him.

And now here we were today, about to gain ourselves a queen. The relationship between Guinevere and Arthur had been brought to everyone's attention soon after he became king, and ever since then, it was rare to find either of them without the other. With Guinevere's knowledge of military strategy and politics, she became just as much of an asset as her father. She was a staple at his side, and I was happy for them.

As for my relationship with Guinevere and Merlin, it grew stronger and stronger each day. They were the last of my family now, and every time Guinevere called me her cousin or Merlin called me his niece, a part of me that had yearned for family for so long warmed. My life was more content now than it had ever been. Everything had just fallen into place, and I was basking in it while I could.

"Alright, let me just pin back my hair, and we can go," I said to Tristan, grabbing a silver hair clip and going to the wash basin to see my reflection. I pulled back the long pieces that hung in my face and braided them, clipping them together at the back of my head. Satisfied by my appearance, I checked that the buckle on my sheath belt was secure, and then lead Tristan out of the Keep…or the palace, as it was referred to now.

We walked to Badon Hill, where a crowd was already forming. All of Arthur's new lords had come out to see the event, meaning even more people than usual were milling about the city. They were impossible to avoid since Arthur insisted on all of us being at every meal with them. "It's only hospitable," he would say, but I would lose that politeness if I had to listen to Lady Laighn complain about the prices of silk for one more night.

Tristan and I weaved our way through the people to reach the front. They gave us a wide berth, making it easy. Although word had spread across the country of our defeat of the Saxons and the knights were the most celebrated soldiers in the country, most had not yet warmed to the intensity the scout exuded, and therefore, still avoided him. But still, they weren't indiscriminately terrified of him anymore, so there was some improvement.

At the head of the crowd, we took our place next to the other knights. Bors had brought out Vanora and all eleven of their bastards for the occasion. By the sour looks on their surprisingly clean faces, I guessed they'd even been forced to bathe. Naveen was there too, dressed in a pretty lilac dress that complimented her skin tone. She beamed at me when I was standing next to her.

"Isn't this all just lovely?" she asked, referring to the blue sky, completely void of clouds almost like the gods themselves were smiling on this day.

"Perfect weather and everything," I agreed. "I hope it's just as beautiful for your day."

She blushed, shooting a sideways glance at Gawain, who was too wrapped up in conversation with Galahad to have caught on to the topic. "That won't be for a long time," she said softly. "You'll be next down the aisle, I guarantee it."

I opened my mouth to object, but she shushed me. "There they are!"

Indeed Arthur and Guinevere were coming toward us, arm in arm, with Merlin walking behind them, chanting prayers in our native tongue with a burning bundle of sage sizzling in his hands. The former Woads had stopped wearing their blue paint, as it was for battle only. Now that they didn't consider themselves to be in a constant war with Rome, they'd set it aside until the next fight arose. The first time Merlin had approached me without it, I hadn't recognized him, but now I was beginning to get used to it.

The three of them stopped right before us, and turned to face each other. Arthur was decked out in full armor, Excalibur shining at his hip. Guinevere wasn't wearing her battle attire, however, and had instead opted for a beautiful flowing white gown. On her head she wore a crown of white flowers from which a veil hung all the way down to her heels. I caught her eye, and the smile she gave me looked almost painful it was so wide. I grinned back at her, unable to express how glad it made me to see her so happy. So strange it was to think that I'd disliked her so, before I'd even met her.

As Merlin began the ceremony, I looped my arm through Tristan's, leaning into him slightly. Guinevere and Arthur exchanged their vows, and a young woman wearing long robes broke away from the crowd to hand Merlin an ornate goblet filled with wine. He turned his back to us and raised it towards the sky, whispering words too low for me to hear. When he turned back to us, he waved the sage in a slashing motion over the wine, wafting the scent around and making smoke trail through the air. He handed the cup to Guinevere, and she drank before passing it to Arthur. He stared intensely into her eyes as he took his own gulp.

Merlin took the cup back, saying, "Arthur, Guinevere, our people are one. As you are."

They sealed their union with a kiss, and the people started to cheer. Naveen wolf-whistled, making several other people follow in her footsteps.

Bors looked down to the baby he was holding, and said, "Now I'm really going to have to marry your mother."

"Who said I'd have you?" Vanora quipped, taking the baby from him. He gave her an offended look in response.

Finally breaking apart, the king and queen stood before us hand in hand.

Merlin raised his sage, proclaiming, "King Arthur!"

The people took up the call, and when Merlin went down on one knee in a bow, everyone did, leaving only Guinevere and Arthur standing, smiling around at their people.

"Let every man, woman, and child bear witness," Arthur said, loud and clear so everyone could hear his words, "that from this day, all Britons will be united in one common cause!"

He withdrew Excalibur and pointed it towards the sky, and Guinevere folded her much smaller hand overtop of his on the hilt. The knights followed suit, standing up with their weapons in hand. I unsheathed my own sword, holding it up to join the others. The people started to chant Arthur's name over and over, so loud that it echoed.

"ARTURIUS!" Bors roared, holding his sword across his chest in a sign of respect. Arthur pointed towards the back of the crowd, and a row of archers let loose flaming arrows, that flew across the sky like hundreds of shooting stars.

After this, we would have a festival to celebrate the marriage and our new queen, and after that was over, it would be back to business. There were still many obstacles between now and the peaceful, united Briton we were striving for. Perhaps I might even leave this life before our dream was complete. It was impossible to tell if our generation would be the one to truly restore this land. It could be Arthur's son, or even his grandson. But what I was sure of was that one day, we would be known for own successes instead of the ones Rome made for us. Someday, Briton would have it's own self-made glory again, and I would do everything I could to make that day come sooner rather than later.

This day marked the conclusion of a lot of things, but more importantly, it was the beginning of something much more significant. I really do believe in my heart that the best is yet to come for us.

* * *

**And there you have it, the end! **

**Actually, that's not entirely true. There is a sequel in the works, though it would be different. Aderyn and Tristan would be demoted to minor characters and a new female OC and Lancelot would take center stage. I'm also planning a Naveen/Gawain one-shot. It will be quite awhile before the next full length is posted though, sorry to get your hopes up. :P  
**

**But I hope this has been as much fun for me as it has been for the rest of you, and I suppose I'll be speaking to you again when I post the one-shot! :D  
**


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